


Cross Promotion

by rileywrites



Series: Bronze Labrys Productions [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alcoholic Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Youtubers, Angst, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26786023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rileywrites/pseuds/rileywrites
Summary: "Hello, my friends, welcome to another episode of Art in Conversation. I am Yusuf al-Kaysani, but you may call me Joe." Joe smiles brilliantly, his perfectly-white teeth standing out against his full beard. "Joining me today in honor of the fourth day of Vlogmas is up-and-coming illustrator, Youtuber, and twitch streamer, Nile Freeman."...The YouTuber AU absolutely no one asked for, but you might need. (Not Clickbait)
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman
Series: Bronze Labrys Productions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979951
Comments: 385
Kudos: 254





	1. The Collaboration

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beloved DragonflyDreams. Y'all can thank (or blame) her for encouraging me to write this monstrosity.
> 
> This takes place in a 2020 that didn't have COVID, because I said so.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe and Nicky invite Nile to collab for Vlogmas.

Saturday, November 21st

...

Walking into Joe and Nicky al-Kaysani's Brooklyn Brownstown, Nile Freeman thinks she might be a bit over her head.

"Come in, come in." Joe bustles her inside and takes her coat. "Welcome, it's good to see you again."

"This place is even more beautiful in person." Nile recognizes large swaths of the house from their videos. "Thank you for welcoming me into your home."

"Absolutely, Nile, we are happy to have you."

Nicky is in the kitchen, putting a lasagna in the oven.

"You are a terrible cliche, my love," Joe says, kissing his cheek when he stands back up. "Nile is here."

"I can see her, thank you." Nicky holds his arms out and kisses Nile's cheek. "Welcome to our home."

"Thank you for having me." Nile shoulders her bag. "Let's get this show on the road, yeah?"

The top floor of the brownstone has been converted into a studio, all skylights and wide open floor space.

"I want to live here. Can I live here?"

That earns her a laugh from both.

"You'll have to earn your keep," Joe says, gesturing to the filming setup. "Help Nicky figure out why the box lights won't talk to each other."

Twenty minutes later, they've finally found the short in the wiring. While Nicky and Nile troubleshoot, Joe sets up the cameras to get all the necessary angles.

"I am intensely jealous of your set up," Nile says, ogling their lighting and cameras.

"Thank you, Tesoro, we try." Nicky finishes fiddling with the lighting camera.

"This is what happens when two youtubers fall in love." Joe helps Nile put on her lapel mic. "Then again, Art in Conversation is easier to cover with a four-camera set up."

"Much less running for me," Nicky says, gesturing broadly to the studio. "I have walked a thousand miles around this room."

"I bet editing is a bitch." Nile pulls on her oversized paint-shirt to cover what her overalls can't.

"Understatement of the century," Joe says, rolling his eyes. "Do you want to get rolling, or talk this through one more time?” 

"Intro, prompt, paint and talk, wrap-up, cut, print," she rattles off. Nile rolls her shoulders, cracks her knuckles. "Let's do this."

Nicky steps behind the monitors, and Joe and Nile take their seats.

"Art in Conversation - Nile Freeman," Nicky says. "Rolling."

...

_"Art in Conversation - Nile Freeman" (Joe al-Kaysani)_

"Hello, my friends, welcome to another episode of Art in Conversation. I am Yusuf al-Kaysani, but you may call me Joe." Joe smiles brilliantly, his perfectly-white teeth standing out against his full beard. "Joining me today in honor of the fourth day of Vlogmas is up-and-coming illustrator, Youtuber, and twitch streamer, Nile Freeman."

The shot cuts to Nile, her socials popping up in the lower third. Her braided space-buns take up the upper third of the shot.

"Thank you so much for having me," Nile says, grinning. "I'm thrilled that you asked."

"Your fans are both numerous and vocal." Joe winks at the camera. "You won by a landslide on my latest Patreon poll. If you would like your opinion heard for the next Art in Conversation, check out my Patreon at the link in the description."

"Remind me of the rules of this whole thing?" Nile asks, transition smooth as silk.

"Art in Conversation Rules." The usual graphic pops up. "1. Paintings must reflect the prompt in some way, chosen from twitter by Nicky so I cannot plan ahead. 2. We have three hours, no exceptions, or else there is entirely too much footage and I wish to perish. 3. No cheating - no peeking, commentating, or sabotage. Got it?"

"Got it." Nile squares her shoulders and holds her pencil aloft. "Hit me."

"Nicolo, my love, what is our prompt?"

"The Tree of Souls," Nicky announces dramatically. "Thank you to @yusolo69 - nice - on Twitter for the prompt."

Joe's eyes twinkle when he looks at Nile. "Three hours on the clock. Ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Begin," Nicky declares solemnly, and the clock starts on screen.

The clip speeds up as they lay down the foundations of their work, the initial sketches and first tests of paint colors. It slows back down when twenty minutes have elapsed.

"So, Nile, you're primarily a digital artist, yes? Web-comics, book illustration, things like that?" Joe asks, a paintbrush behind each ear and another tucked in his shirt pocket.

"I prefer digital," Nile agrees. "This is the first time I've done analog art in a while, so cut me some slack on technique, eh, old man?"

Joe sputters dramatically, somehow managing to poke himself in the cheek with sunshine yellow.

"I am _not_ an old man."

"Yes, you are," Nicky says from behind the cameras.

"It's all relative. I'm twenty-six. You're thirty-seven." Nile points at him with her paintbrush. "From my perspective, you're practically a thousand years old."

"Then you should respect your elders, smartass," Joe says, wiping his cheek and smearing the yellow paint. "Back to the topic. Why digital art?"

"Part of it was money, to be honest." Nile shrugs. "It was easier to pinch and scrape to afford a shitty two-generations-out-of-date iPad than to buy the nice paper and supplies I wanted to work with."

She bites the end of her paintbrush before making her next mark.

"I was good at it, too, which helps. I upgraded my set-up in high school, and the art teacher who specialized in digital design took me under her wing. I got to use her high quality Wacom for the first time…" Nile whistles. "I was hooked. I started doing commissions in high school to upgrade my shit, got a scholarship for college, and it all went from there."

"You used traditional mediums in college, I assume?"

"Sure, I've done a little bit with a lot of mediums. I like acrylics, but oil is of the devil. Photography is fun, which is what lead me to video." Nile smiles at the camera and turns her attention back to her work. "I struggle with sculpture for the same reason I struggle with perspective. My spatial reasoning gets iffy some days. Just ask my stream audience. They've seen me on some bad freaking days."

"You are very talented, especially for someone so young," Joe says, halfway teasing. "For an infant to have come as far as you."

"Okay, step off it, old man." Nile rolls her eyes, making eye contact with the camera. "I'll take the compliment, though."

"You should. I mean it. Your original work is beautiful. You have a real eye for color."

As Joe speaks, several pieces of Nile's artwork appear on screen – a page of a web-comic, a self-portrait, a landscape.

"Your work for the web-comic _Clay and Violets_ is beautiful. You and Dizzy Ali make a great team."

"Trust me, it was all her writing. Without that, all my work would just be pretty pictures that don't say anything." Nile stands to get more green paint. "Then again, I've always known Dizzy was a genius. Knew it from the first day of college."

"What told you she was a genius?" Nicky asks, refilling both of their water glasses.

"We were strangers on move-in day, and I get to the dorm -" The edit fades out on Nile's story, cutting back in five minutes later. "…so she has to get all of us, plus the suitcases, plus the girl from 214's fish tank out of this elevator without breaking anything." Another cut, to considerable progress on the work and Nile continuing her story. "She got the rolling laundry bin over the curb and through the doors, no injuries, and no spilling of poor 214's fish tank."

(A graphic hovers over the image - "She talked for twenty solid minutes. For the full story, watch episode outtakes on Patreon.")

Joe lets out a low whistle.

"And this woman went into writing and not engineering?"

"Nah, she double-majored. Her salary is a good chunk of the way we can afford rent somewhere half-way decent." Nile looks into the camera. "My linktree is in the description box. Buy _Clay and Violets,_ or support me on Patreon!"

"Nice plug," Nicky says with a snort.

"Thanks, I try."

The video shifts to just the two paintings in progress, a time-lapse with lo-fi hip hop in the background. The clock ticks away, with the edit slowing at an hour left.

"Tell us about your latest projects," Joe says, snagging the tube of crimson and returning to his stool. "I was watching the stream last night, and you said something about commissions?"

Nile nods, gaze solidly on her work.

"I'm running a sale on commissions. If you agree to let me do the work on stream, you get fifteen percent off my usual prices." Nile swipes at a blob of paint with her finger and wipes it on her overalls. "It's a win-win, because you get a Nile Freeman original, and my stream gets content."

"I've already commissioned you," Nicky says.

Nile's price breakdown appears onscreen, along with the link to order.

"I look forward to seeing how you draw what I've requested."

Nile grins. "I'll have to push it up in the queue, then. You added reference?"

"I filled out the form properly, do not worry."

"As should everyone watching this video," Joe says straight to camera. "Support an up-and-coming artist. She is quite talented to be a kid of her age."

"How can you be so mean and so nice to me, all at once?" Nile sticks her tongue out at him.

"I ask myself that question every day, Nile." Nicky barely dodges the tube of paint Joe throws at him. It clatters to the floor off-camera.

"It's nice to know y'all flirt as much in person as you do on camera." Nile pulls her detail brush out of her space bun and adds some tighter line-work. "It's sickening, really. How dare you be so happy?"

"Is there anyone on the horizon for you, Ms. Freeman?" Joe asks, dragging his gaze away from Nicky for once. "Any special someone?"

"Nah, no one." Nile shrugs. "I'm not really in a dating headspace right now. My last breakup hit me hard."

"Gita Essaidi, the model, right? She was in your photography show."

Joe and Nile both look at Nicky, who shrugs.

"I may be an old man, but I can google." 

_"You can google too. Or don't, it's your choice."_ floats on screen.

"Yeah, that was her. Anyway, after coming out of a long-term relationship, I'm focusing on myself."

"Much to the chagrin of your fans, I'm sure," Joe teases. "Good for you for taking that time. Too many people dive straight into another relationship too quickly."

"Didn't you two date for like three months before you got married?" Nile asks.

"Ask our audience, dear. We had been circling for years at that point." Nicky comes over to kiss the top of Joe's head.

"Besides, we are soulmates. What we have is very rare."

Nile looks into the camera like she's on the office as they kiss.

"Focus, Joe. We're on a time crunch, here." Nile shakes her brush at him. "Kiss your husband on your own time."

"Oh, I will." The shot zooms in on Joe's eyebrow waggle then jump cuts to Nile's unimpressed stare. 

There is another time-lapse as they get closer to the end, brushes flying.

"Your time is up! Put your paintbrushes down and stretch. Then it will be time to show off your work," Nicky announces with the well-practiced air of someone on season three of a YouTube series. 

The next shot is Joe and Nile holding their paintings up, away from each other. Nicky counts to three, and they turn them to the cameras.

Joe's painting for "The Tree of Souls" is full of light. It's mostly earth tones, a weeping willow with the silhouette of two men embracing integrated into the trunk.

"Oh _, Joe_ ," Nile says reverently. "It's beautiful.” 

"You incurable romantic," Nicky says, fond.

"You are my soul, Nicolo."

Nile tries not to sniffle and doesn't do well.

We have two very different approaches to this prompt."

Nile's painting is dark, angry. The tree is made up of souls instead of merely containing them, body parts wound together to create a branching oak.

"That is stunning, Nile," Joe says. "I love your use of color. The depth is amazing."

"I also feel obligated to ask if you have a therapist," Nicky adds.

"I do, don't worry."

"This is the whole point of the series. Two artists from very different backgrounds will interpret a prompt in two very different ways." Joe sets his painting on the easel and holds out a hand for Nile to shake. "Thank you for joining me."

"Thank you for having me. This was a blast."

The shot cuts to the two of them on the ratty studio couch, paintings propped behind them.

"Thank you for watching this episode of _Art in Conversation._ If you enjoyed it, please do all the fun YouTube things that save us from the horrors of the algorithm," Joe asks. "You can find me on Patreon for extra content if you would like to support me further."

"My linktree is in the description," Nile says. "If you'd like to see more of the two of us together, head on over to my channel where we will be ranking paintings of Saint Sebastian by level of horniness. It's going to be great."

"Thank you, everyone, and have a blessed day!"

_End screen._

…

"Nicky, I realize you are already married and also gay, but will you marry me?"

"I am sorry, _bella_ ," Nicky says, laughing. "I cannot marry you."

"Okay, so what do I have to do to eat more of this lasagna every day for the rest of forever?" Nile scrapes at her plate, and Joe gives her another serving.

"Just keep visiting. I make it once a week, at least." Nicky leans over and stage-whispers, "Sometimes I even make it with pork sausage, when I am feeling naughty, and I get a whole pan to myself."

"The price I pay for love and keeping halal," Joe says, rolling his eyes.

"That sounds fucking amazing," Nile says. "Call me the next time you make haram lasagna, and I'll be here."

"I'll hold you to it." Nicky sips his tea. "Let's talk the next video quickly, while you finish your lasagna."

"Okay, I'm thinking all three of us on the studio couch, and we'll just fly through the slides I put together. As long as I take good notes, I should be able to edit it way quicker than y'all get your shit done."

"So high art and intense editing for ours, slap-dash and charming for yours?" Joe nods, parsing the thought. "I like the contrast."

"Of course you do. Contrast is kind of your thing. I'll hold my video until the agreed-upon date, of course. That's just good collab manners."

"You spoil us, dear," Nicky says, tossing a rogue cherry tomato from the salad at her head.

"I'm gonna get really good at ducking, hanging around you people." Nile tosses a piece of bread at Nicky, who catches it and takes a bite.

"Just wait until you meet Andy."

“I look forward to it.”

… 

_"How horny is too horny? Rating St. Sebastian paintings with Joe and Nicky al-Kaysani" (Nile Freeman)_

Nile is sitting on the end of a ratty, paint-splattered couch, with Nicky on the opposite end and Joe in the middle with a laptop on his knees.

"Hey guys! Welcome to another episode in my 'Nile has Opinions (and Sometimes Friends)' series, here on the channel. Joining me today are a pair y'all have been screaming at me about for months, Joe and Nicky al-Kaysani."

Canned applause plays while Joe and Nicky wave.

"Thanks to popular demand, I am finally doing a brief, non-exhaustive rating of the horniness of Saint Sebastian paintings." Nile glares at the camera. "Y'all are nasty."

Dozens of screenshots of comments begging for St. Sebastian pop up on screen, and Nile waves them away.

"I figured, who better discuss gay Catholic horniness than Joe and Nicky?"  
"I resemble that remark," Nicky grumbles.

"Resent, my love."

"That too."

"Now, since I have you, Nicky, would you like to tell the folks at home about St. Sebastian's story, before we get into the Renaissance softcore?"

"Gladly." Nicky clears his throat. "During his time in the Praetorian guard, Sebastian was caught converting prisoners to Christianity and sentenced to death by arrows. He survived the arrows by being healed by St. Irene of Rome, but he was later killed fully by clubbing at the order of Diocletian, making him somewhat of a double martyr."

"Most of the art focuses on the arrows," Joe says. "Probably because it is far more romantic than clubbing."

"Not to mention, it's an excuse to paint a holy twink with no clothes on," Nile adds. "I completely understand the logic."

"That is because you have a sinful mind," Nicky says, overly-solemn.

"Don't even start with me on sin, Mr. Spicy Catholic. We don't have time for philosophy. I'm here for horny Renaissance painters and holy twinks." Nile bounces a little, excited. "We will be rating them on a scale of zero to ten dicks. Let's begin with Frans Badens."

Joe pulls up the first painting, and it appears on screen, along with the title card _"Saint Sebastian" (1600-1618) by Frans Badens._ It is a painting of a muscular man with two arrows in his abdomen slumped on a tree trunk. His modesty is preserved by some sort of shawl knotted around his waist.

"That background is very beautiful."

"Focus, Joe." Nicky squints at the screen. "Is he flexing as he dies? Why is he flexing?"

"Because Frans Badens thought it would be hot that way?" Nile suggests. "This is fairly horny, but at least it looks like he's actually dying."

"That does not seem like a high bar," Joe says. "Look at him, he is mostly naked, his muscles are flexed, and he is built like a brick shithouse. I give him eight out of ten dicks."

"Seven out of ten. You cannot see his face," Nicky says.

Nile shakes her head. "Six out of ten dicks, if only because of the others we have coming." She clicks something, and the first painting disappears. "Up next, our most modern example, 'Pala d'Altare di San Sebastiano' by Albert Edwin Flury, 2012."

"I did not realize people were still painting horny St. Sebastian paintings so recently," Joe says, zooming in.

"Now I understand why you said 'at least it looks like he's actually dying,'" Nicky says.

St. Sebastian 2012 is in careful, model-esque repose against his tree trunk, gazing pensively into the distance. Five arrows pierce him in very specific angles, and his ensemble is a white fabric diaper situation.

"He looks like a model," Nile says approvingly. "Like they just said to give them your best blue steel."

"He is very pretty, and not at all a martyr," Nicky argues. "I give this eight dicks out of ten."

"I concur," Joe says.

"That makes three of us. Next!"

The next painting appears. The graphic label says _"Der hl. Sebastian," Francesco Furini, ~1610._

All three squint at the screen, confused.

"Is he holding a bow?" Nicky asks.

Joe frowns. "He doesn't even have any arrows in him?

"That modesty cloth is hanging on through sheer dick magic," Nile says with a laugh. "That is not how cloth works."

Furini's Sebastian is unmarred, his face concerned but his body dancing. He is covered by a white cloth that technically wraps around his hip, and he has some sort of cloak billowing between himself and a whipping post.

"He has a delicate turn of the ankle," Joe says. "Very shapely."

"He's also one of the least martyred ones, other than his face." Nicky shakes his head. "This must be before the firing squad."

"I am baffled by this artist's choices," Nile says. "I vote seven dicks out of ten?"

"I say eight. The artist was so horny, he didn't want to show wounds on a martyr," Nicky suggests.

"I vote with Nicky."

"Eight it is. Next!"

The next painting is of a peaches-and-cream complexioned Sebastian, his doe-eyes pointed to the heavens. His wrists are crossed and tied to the tree behind him, and he has two bloodless arrows in his torso. _"Saint Sebastian" by Guido Reni (1615)_ pops up on screen.

"Look at how pretty he is! This takes repressed homosexuality to a whole new level," Joe winks at the camera. "I would know."

"This looks like kink art," Nicky says bluntly. "Beautiful, soft, but kinky.

"I am a true art critic, using my art school degree," Nile says. "I declare this painting is a nine out of ten dicks. The only way it would be higher is if his modesty cloth covered less."

"I agree. Reni didn't commit."

"Except for a sin, making a Saint that beautiful," Nicky jokes.

"Now for a more modern one," Nile declares.

The painting on screen is of a fully-naked Sebastian on his knees, his hands tied above him. The light patterns are stark, his chest almost glowing as shadows surround him. His eyes look toward the heavens. The graphic says _"Erzsébet Korb, 1921."_

“Now you see, this work here is interesting because it’s almost aggressively horny. It’s a feral kind of horny," Joe says.

"Yet it is also one of the most reverent," Nicky argues. "Look at the way St. Sebastian is looking up to God, pleading for mercy with his entire body." 

"I appreciate that she didn't bother with a modesty cloth," Nile says. She leans in. "Her use of color is stunning."

"This one is the most similar to your art style, _hayati_ ," Joe points out.

"It's definitely my favorite. It's also the only one from this list by a female artist," Nile says as she checks her notes.

"It is both impressively horny and beautifully reverent," Joe says. "Ten out of ten dicks, five out of five stars."

Both Nicky and Nile nod in agreement.

"We're only five paintings in, but we've been talking for over an hour, so I'm gonna call it here." Nile rubs her temples. "Editing this is going to be a bitch."

The video freezes.

"Editing Nile here," she says via voice over. "Past Nile was right, this was a bitch to edit."

The video starts up again.

"Okay, boys, final thoughts?"

"I love how everyone who paints him is agreed on muscle definition," Nicky says.

"It's like literally everyone from 1612 to 2012 said 'I don't know much about St. Sebastian, but I know he was a twunk,'" Joe says. He grins when Nile bursts into laughter.

It takes Nile a second to breathe, and Joe smirks.

"I also think that I might be inspired to add to the Canon of horny St. Sebastian paintings." Joe bats his eyes at Nicky. "Would you pose for it, Nicolo?"

"Are you calling me a twunk, beloved?"

"No, I'm saying you're so beautiful that I wish to paint you in the style of the masters."

"I will pose for you, Yusuf, if it makes you happy."

Nile looks into the camera while the men kiss.

"We get it. You're in love." Nile pokes Joe in the arm. "Stay on topic.” 

"I have exhausted my well of charming banter, _hayati_ ," Joe says. "I think 'twunk' was the last of it."

"I agree."

"In that case, that's all we've got for this episode of 'Nile has Opinions (and Sometimes Friends).' Join me next time as Dizzy, Jordan, and I rate color field paintings for their use of color."

"The way you look at the world is fascinating," Joe says, chuckling.

"Be sure to check out Old Man and the Spicy Catholic if you haven't already. All their links will be in the description box below." Nile points. "You'll also find my socials, my website, and my Patreon. Any and all support is appreciated, even if it's as simple as liking or clicking the bell to turn on notifications. Any last words, gentlemen?"

"If you came from our channel, be sure to support Nile," Joe says. "She is a lovely and talented young woman, and your Instagram feed would be blessed with her."

"I paid him to say that," Nile jokes. "Okay guys, be safe, and go create something!" 

_End screen._

...

Friday, December 4th

…

Joe (12:00) Just uploaded the latest collab for Vlogmas, let me know what you think.

Booker (12:11) Awesome I’ll go watch it now. Notifications have been shitty. 

Joe (12:12) I think you'll get a kick out of this one.

Joe (1:32) Book? Are you there? It’s been an hour. Did you not like it?

Joe (2:16) Okay, it’s been two hours now, you’re starting to worry me...

Joe (4:25) Sébastien Anthony le Livre, if you don’t text me back, I’m calling the police.

Booker (5:03) I think I’m in love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference images and original inspiration for the St. Sebastian scenes are available on my tumblr [at this link.](https://rileywrites.tumblr.com/post/630924486360875008/how-horny-is-too-horny-rating-st-sebastian).


	2. The First Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Booker doesn't expect Nile to be at Joe and Nicky's for dinner.

December 4th

...

"That wraps it up for this edition of the Booker Files. Thank you so much to Hannah and the rest of the staff at Aspen Valley Wildlife Sanctuary. The link to donate will be in the description, along with all of my usual links." Booker smiles. "Remember. _Le monde est un livre, lisez-le attentivement. Au revoir_."

Booker stops the camera.

"That should do it. Thank you so much." Booker shakes hands with everyone and finally has a moment alone out in his rental SUV. 

Booker loves his job, but sometimes he ends up in the coldest goddamn places. Rosseau, Ontario, is a beautiful area to visit. It's popular with tourists in the summer, which is why Booker came in early December and not in August. However, the 2° centigrade days leave something to be desired.

He spent all morning out at Aspen Valley Wildlife Sanctuary, talking with the rehab staff and filming B-roll of all the animals. He's been at the sanctuary every day this week, filming enough for a month of videos.

His audience is going to flip over this series. Animal-related videos always do the best.

Booker pulls out his phone for the first time in over an hour to find a text from Joe.

Joe (12:00) Just uploaded the latest collab for Vlogmas, let me know what you think.

Booker types as quickly as he can, given his frozen fingers.

Booker (12:11) Awesome I’ll go watch it now. Notifications have been shitty.

Joe (12:12) I think you'll get a kick out of this one. 

The ride back to his rented cabin is quick. He stokes the fire in the wood stove, hoping to fight back more of the chill.

Booker makes a sandwich and pulls out his laptop. Sure enough, he has a notification for Joe's latest upload on his home page, but not on his phone. Fucking YouTube.

He clicks play on "Art in Conversation - Nile Freeman" and sits back to enjoy his sandwich.

Joe rattles through the familiar intro as Booker takes a bite.

"Joining me today in honor of the fourth day of Vlogmas is up-and-coming illustrator, Youtuber, and twitch streamer, Nile Freeman."

The shot cuts to Nile, a stunning black woman with big, soulful eyes and braided Princess Leia buns. The thumbnail could never have done her justice.

Booker absolutely does not lose his bite of sandwich when his jaw drops. It's a near thing, but it counts.

"Thank you so much for having me," Nile says, grinning. Her eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles, and Booker feels warm for the first time since he got to Ontario. "I'm thrilled that you asked.”

Booker is enraptured, somehow managing to eat his sandwich without noticing by the end of the video.

(If Nile's "practically a thousand years old" line stings a little, Booker isn't about to admit it.)

When the end screen pops up, Booker immediately clicks the link to go to Nile's side of the collaboration.

(If he almost spontaneously combusts over his new crush talking about dicks for fifteen minutes, that's his business.)

From the collaboration with Joe and Nicky, Booker starts following the algorithm through Nile's back-catalog of work.

She has a varied channel, with series on art history, time-lapse art, intricate makeup transformations, and highlights from her twitch stream. Because Nile has been on YouTube since she was in college, Booker has hours of video to trip his way through.

It's research, he tells himself. It's just keeping up with the latest addition to Joe and Nicky's sphere. If there's another person to collab with, there's a chance to reach untapped audience members for his own channel. He's only interested in cross promotion, that's all.

(It's instant infatuation, but he doesn't dare let himself voice that.)

When Booker finally emerges from his tunnel vision around five, his notifications are glowing accusingly at him.

Joe (1:32) Book? Are you there? It’s been an hour. Did you not like it?

Joe (2:16) Okay, it’s been two hours now, you’re starting to worry me...

Joe (4:25) Sébastien Anthony le Livre, if you don’t text me back I’m calling the police.

Fuck, not the full legal name.

Booker (5:03) I think I’m in love

It's a joke, mostly. Kidding around after an internet rabbit hole.

(Trying to convince himself he isn't being creepy.)

Joe (5:10) Thank goodness, I thought a bear ate you or something. Isn't she talented? 

Booker drafts his response carefully.

Booker (5:12) She's very good at her craft.

He has to distract himself. Booker pulls the SD card out of his camera and pops it into the computer to move the day's footage. He should have done it at lunch, but he wasn't planning on being this sidetracked.

Hannah - Aspen Valley (5:45) Do you want to go to dinner with the others? We're eating downtown, and you're welcome to join us.

That will be even better. He gets to eat, he gets out of the cabin, and he gets company that isn't on the computer.

...

December 10th

...

Andy is teaching a class when Booker gets to the gym, but she pauses to hug him so tight his back pops.

"Hey, Book, I missed you. How was Ontario?"

"Cold, but beautiful." Booker holds out a bakery box. "Now or later?"

"Later. I'm in the middle of something right now." Andy looks out over her class. "No one said to stop! Ten more reps, keep your elbows in!"

Booker kisses the top of her head.

"I'll go upstairs to see Quynh, and you can try my latest find when you get done." Booker walks through the gym and up the stairs to the apartment.

A yowl greets him when he walks in, a pile of orange fur shambling across the floor to get to his feet.

"Gus!" Booker scoops him up and kisses his dumb, ratty ears. "Have they been taking care of you, gorgeous boy?"

Guys grumbles, his one eye squinty and judgmental.

"Poor kitty, such a hard life you live. Two mothers and no love."

"Don't listen to him," Quynh says, shaking a hand towel in his direction. "He is spoiled rotten."

Booker hugs her, cat pressed between them.

"It's good to see you," Quynh says. "It's been too long."

"It's been two months," Booker points out.

"Exactly. Way too long for us, and practically forever for poor Augustus."

Gus grumbles when Booker tries to put him down, so Booker carries him back to his room to put his bags down.

There is a text from Joe blinking at him when he finally gets his hands free.

Joe (4:17) Come to dinner if you can make it to the house in time. Seven o'clock. Nicky is making lasagna, but don't you dare bring anything.

Booker chuckles. He'll bring wine and something for dessert, like he always does. Nicky will tut at him over bringing food to a chef, and Booker will smirk when Nicky happily eats the dessert anyway.

It is good to be home, to fall back into familiar patterns.

Booker (4:30) I will be there. Are we dressing for dinner?

Joe (4:32) No, but try not to look like a hobo in case I rope you into a vlogmas video

That reminds Booker to pull out his laptop and hard drive. Andy and Quynh pay good money for amazing internet, so he'll finally have the bandwidth to upload shit properly. His cabin was wonderful, but the internet left a lot to be desired.

While everything runs, Booker takes a shower to wash the travel off. His beard is getting unruly, so he takes the time to trim it back to what Quynh calls his "rakish scruff."

Gus is waiting outside of the bathroom door when Booker walks out. He follows Booker back to the bedroom and sits possessively on his backpack while Booker gets dressed.

"You are going to be very grouchy when you realize I'm going to dinner, my friend." Booker scratches his head, paying special attention to the scar behind his right ear that makes the cat melt. "For now, enjoy the ignorance."

Quynh is on her computer in the living room when Booker emerges.

"You look nice. Did Joe threaten you with Vlogmas?"

Booker sits in the recliner, and Gus immediately crawls up to lay across his chest and shoulder. His purr has a rattle in it, but Booker has never heard a happier sound.

"I am glad Joe is the only one of us who bothers with Vlogmas. It would get chaotic if all of us were wielding cameras at family dinner."

"It would ruin the mystique," Quynh jokes. "I see your cat is happy you are home."

"He is not my cat," Booker says. Gus kneads at his shirt, and Booker pets his back. "He is your cat who happens to like me best."

"That is not how cats work." Quynh rolls her eyes. "We are all glad to have you home, though. Are you here through Christmas?"

Booker shrugs. "Maybe? The Aspen Valley content will cover me through New Year's."

"You can stay as long as you like, you know that. The keys are the same, and I airdropped you the latest alarm code."

"That sounds perfect, thank you." Booker is drowsy after his long trip, warm and cozy with one of his best friends clicking away quietly and the world's best cat asleep on his chest. "Wake me for dinner?"

"Of course. Enjoy your nap."

Booker is asleep in moments.

...

Walking into Joe and Nicky's house, Booker is hit by a wall of aroma and warmth. Then, he is hit by Joe, hugging him tightly.

"My brother, it is good to see you." Joe finally steps back. "Comment vas-tu?"

"Je vais bien, et toi?" Booker squeezes his shoulder, unwilling to let go after two months without his family.

"Better now that you are here. Nicolo, Booker is here early!"

"I see." Nicky hugs him with less fervor than Joe, but no less affection. "It is good to see you, my friend. We missed you."

"One would think you'd be used to my long absences by now," Booker teases. The way he clings to them both shows his true feelings.

"One would be wrong." Nicky finally sees the bag in Booker's hand. "Did Joe not tell you to come empty-handed? I have everything more than covered."

"I got pastries from that new Italian bakery near Andy's gym." Booker holds out the bag, and Nicky almost manages to pretend he's still pissed off as he takes it. "I thought so."

Joe hangs up his coat, and Booker follows Nicky into the galley kitchen. He pours himself a glass of wine from the already-open bottle on the counter.

"Do you have two lasagnas going? That is quite a lot for three."

"One is beef, the other is pork," Nicky explains. "Also, we have another guest joining us for dinner." 

"What? Who? Andy and Quynh didn't say they were coming." Booker pauses. "Also, they're a pair, not 'another guest.' And Quynh is vegetarian!"

"It is a surprise," Joe says. "I knew you would back out if I told you, but now you cannot escape."

"You are evil, and I am concerned."

"Don't be,” Joe says, with a face that belies his assurances.

The doorbell rings, and everyone looks toward the entryway. Joe goes to open the door.

"Welcome, dear heart, come on in. It is lovely to see you. Let me take your coat."

"Thank you. God it's cold outside."

Booker freezes. It hasn't even been a week since he discovered her, but he'd recognize the voice anywhere.

"You are wearing a crop top in December, _hayati_."

Nicky counts to three on his fingers, and Joe says, "Nicolo, Nile is here!"

"I can see that, beloved."

Nile Freeman is somehow even more beautiful in person. Sure enough, she's wearing a burgundy cropped shirt with tall black pants, the slightest strip of skin visible between them. Her lips match her shirt, and her smile is even brighter without the studio lights somehow.

Booker is fucked.

"...Booker!" Nicky says with the air of someone who has been repeating something.

Booker startles out of his panic-based fog. He takes a moment to square his proverbial shoulders and commit to being his usual charming self and not a teenager with a crush.

(Besides, he is too old for her.)

"Yes, sorry?"

"Booker, this is Nile Freeman. Nile, Booker le Livre, an old friend of ours."

Nile extends a hand, and Booker shakes it.

" _Enchantée,_ Nile. This is a pleasant surprise."

"It's nice to meet you. I've been subscribed for a while, so I was excited when Joe said you'd be at dinner." Nile looks over at Joe. "I didn't realize it was going to be an ambush."

Joe holds his hands up, completely unapologetic.

(Jesus fuck. She's a subscriber?)

"I enjoyed your collaborations with Joe and Nicky," Booker says. "You have a great eye."

Nile's grin brightens. "Thank you."

Joe has the biggest shit-eating grin when Booker finally looks over at him. That Motherfucker.

"Come, sit. Nile, would you like something to drink?" Nicky gestures to the kitchen. "We have wine, beer, tea..."

"Tea, please. Thank you."

The next few minutes are a whirl of getting dinner on the table and drinks all around. The heaven of Nicky's haram lasagna distracts from the surprise of meeting Nile. Booker didn't realize how fucking hungry he was.

"Tell us about your latest trip," Joe suggests. "What have you been doing for the past two months?"

"I did a photo essay piece for National Geographic about subcultures in Toronto," Booker says. "That was a lot of fun. I always end up in the weirdest places and meet the coolest people."

"For a man built like an ox with an obnoxious accent, people do open up to you," Nicky says.

"I have a giving aura," Booker quips. "A lovely witch I met said so, so it counts."

"Is that the blonde girl from the cover photo of your portfolio right now?" Joe asks. "I saw that when I was checking up on you the other day."

"That's Catalina, yes. She was very kind, very welcoming."

Joe wiggles his eyebrows, and Booker throws a chunk of bread at him.

"Not like that, you pervert." Booker rolls his eyes. "I am a journalist. I have ethics."

"Did you have fun at the animal rescue?" Nile asks, surprising the three men. "I saw your post about visiting on Insta."

Booker makes a note to follow her on Instagram now that she has acknowledged following him. Maybe it will feel less creepy now.

Asking about his job is a good way to get Booker talking, and he ends up going on about the animal rescue for almost twenty minutes before he realizes how badly he's been hogging the conversation.

"Sorry, I didn't realize. You should have stopped me at some point."

"Of course not," Nicky says. "You are always the most talkative right after a trip. We have learned to anticipate it."

"It brings us joy," Joe says. "You are so passionate."

"I know I'm new here," Nile says, "but I think it's really cute how into it you get. So many YouTube dudes are all curated imperfection and ego, even in person. You're just genuinely excited."

Booker blue-screens for a moment. A comment he gets a lot pops up in his memory.

"Booker is a disaster bi icon." It has never been more true.

Joe and Nicky exchange a look, and all Booker can do is hope his mild crisis wasn't too obvious to Nile.

"I would not do it if I did not care," Booker finally says. "Life is too short to pretend."

"I want that on a t-shirt," Nile says. "You could sell it along with your 'the world is a book' shirts."

"Design it for me, and we'll split the profits," Booker says, mostly kidding.

Nile's eyes light up.

"You're on." Nile sips her tea. "Only if you agree to join me on stream sometime. I could actually design it with you there."

"That sounds like a great opportunity," Joe says, the traitor. "It would be a chance to reach a new audience, Booker."

Booker makes a mental note to kill him later.

"Please?" Nile asks, batting her eyelashes and poking her lip out.

Booker is fucking weak.

"Fine. Yes. I will guest on your stream, if only because I know Joe will never let it down if I say no."

(Nile could ask for the world with that face, and he would try and give it to her.)

"Awesome!" Nile hands him her phone with a new text open. "Text yourself, so we can arrange the details."

Booker does so and hands the phone back, adding Nile's number as a new contact when the text comes through.

What even is his life, these days?

"Nicky, tell us about your plans for your next big cooking challenge," Booker says, pleading with his eyes for Nicky to get the focus off of him.

Nicky, Saint and angel that he is, is kind enough to draw attention away so Booker can have his crisis in peace.

…

Nile (8:17) This is Booker texting so we have each other's numbers

Nile (10:45) It was super nice getting to meet you tonight! Excited to have you on stream

Nile (10:46) Shit I just realized this is kinda late for normal people feel free to ignore me

Booker (10:47) Youtubers are not normal people

Nile (10:50) Understatement

Booker (10:52) It was nice to meet you as well. A pleasant surprise

Nile (10:54) I can't believe they didn't tell you I was coming! Did they think I'd scare you off or something?

Booker (11:00) Yes. You are very scary. Aaaaaah.

Nile (11:03) You are a smartass

Booker (11:05) You are surprised?

Nile (11:06) How can I already imagine the look on your face?

Booker (11:10) I do not have many looks. You have probably seen them all already

Nile (11:15) Why don't I believe you?

Booker (11:17) I have no clue. I am a paragon of virtue.

Nile (11:18) You're something, alright

…

Tuesday, December 15th

...

A woman Booker recognizes from Nile's Instagram opens the door when he knocks.

"Nile, Booker is here!" She turns back to him and extends her hand. "Jordan Davis, you can call me Jay."

Booker shakes her hand.

"Booker le Livre, but you knew that."

"Context clues." Jay taps the side of her head, and Booker rolls his eyes.

He likes her energy.

"Let him in, asshole." Nile shoves Jay out of the doorway. "Booker, hi!"

Nile is wearing a gigantic hoodie with her logo on it, her braids in Leia buns.

"Come on in. You're right on time!" Nile takes his coat and hangs it on a precarious-looking coat rack.

"Can your roommate the engineer not anchor that more securely?"

"She was busy the day we put it up. It hasn't fallen yet, so we'll see how long it lasts." Nile gestures to the pile of shoes by the door. "If you don't mind? We have house-slippers for guests."

Booker obediently sheds his boots and dons the guest slippers. They are utilitarian navy, nothing like Nile's rainbow slipper socks.

"I feel half-dressed."

"You look comfier already. C'mon, we've got about fifteen minutes until start time. I can show you my set-up."

Nile's room is big for a Brooklyn apartment. Every available corner has something related to her art or her channel. Her bed is tucked in the corner with curtains hung around it, keeping something from her audience even as she invites them into her room.

"Home sweet home." Nile gestures to the room. "I'd say feel free to look around, but it's all right here."

"It's nice. Larger than it looks on camera."

"I make use of every square inch. Now, here's where it all happens."

Booker looks over the desk with the computer, camera, lights, and massive Wacom tablet. Nile has obviously spent a good amount of time and money on perfecting her content.

"You should feel special. I talked Dizzy into letting me borrow her nice rolly chair for you instead of sticking you in a kitchen chair."

"I am truly honored. I will make sure to thank her when I have the opportunity."

"Can I get you something to drink? Water, tea, beer, Dr. Pepper, Bang?"

"Do people just... drink Bang for fun?" Booker asks. "And water is fine, thank you."

He really does not need to have alcohol in his system for this.

Ten minutes later, as Nile gets ready to start the stream, Booker is wishing he asked for that beer.

"Stop picking at your nails." Nile tosses him a plastic contraption of concentric rings around a sphere. "Try that. It's silent and surprisingly satisfying to play with."

Booker has known this woman for less than a week, and already she can read him easy as anything. He is royally fucked.

"Thank you," Booker rasps.

Nile looks over at him, and her eyes go soft.

"You can back out if you want, Book. I'm not about to hold you hostage."

"No, it's fine. I'm fine." Booker squares his shoulders. "I don't usually do anything live. It's just new."

"Lucky for you, I've got plenty of experience, so you've got a great guide." Nile squeezes his shoulder, and Booker melts a little. "Breathe. I've got you."

"Right. Right, we're good." Booker sits back in his borrowed rolly chair. "Let's do this."

...

It doesn't take long for Booker to realize he should ignore the chat whenever possible. There are only so many 'daddy' comments he can get before he wants to slide under the desk and stay there. 

"Y'all, be civil or you're gonna scare him off," Nile says about twenty minutes in. She’s working on Booker's new t-shirt design, and he's just along for the ride. "Booker, baby, distract them with a travel story or something."

Booker hopes his scruff covers his blush. Based on the pinging of the chat, it doesn't.

"An old one, or one from my upcoming videos?"

"Upcoming videos, duh. Cross promotion is the name of the game." Nile grins at him. "It thought you were the brains of this outfit."

"Would the chat rather hear about the subcultures project or the animal rescue?" Booker asks the camera, starting to get the hang of audience interaction at least a little bit.

The animal rescue is the overwhelming favorite. Booker decides to talk about one of the rescue's most recent releases.

"You here in Nile's stream are getting a preview of this week's video, which is a profile on an animal they've had in recovery for a while."

This is where he's comfortable, telling stories about his work to an audience who gives a shit. By the time he wraps up the story, pausing for Nile to read bits messages every few minutes, the design for their collaboration shirt is done.

"Ta da! What do you think?"

'Life is too short to pretend' stands out in swirly white script, surrounded by botanical designs. It's nothing he would come up with on his own, yet it's also fucking perfect.

"I love it, Nile. This is going to look amazing on shirts."

"Shirts, stickers, whatever else. It should be fairly scalable. Chat, what do you think?"

The general consensus is positive.

"I'll send you the file, and you can do the rest," Nile says, smiling. "We're a good team. You'll have to come back to the stream if we haven't scared you off yet."

"I'll try and make it if you'll have me. I'm not always in town, obviously."

"I'll hold you to it." Nile looks at the time. "Okay friends, I'm gonna let Booker head out before it gets too late. I'm gonna walk him out. Mods, keep them civil."

Nile mutes her audio and walks Booker out to the living room.

"Thank you for being such a good sport," Nile says, carefully removing his coat from the precarious rack.

Booker pulls his boots back on and leans on the wall to lace them properly.

"It was fun. You've got a good audience - though a bit thirsty for my tastes."

"That's all you, baby. Apparently, you're their type." Nile holds his coat out so he can slide it on. "You don’t have to come back if you don't want to. I won't hold you to promises made on camera."

"No, I'd be happy to come visit the stream." Then, because Booker is an idiot and a fool, "I enjoyed spending time with you."

Nile's smile could light Manhattan.

"Awesome." She goes for a hug and hesitates. "Are you a hugger?"

Booker holds his arms open, his face carefully long-suffering. Nile hugs him quickly, and he allows himself to hold her for that brief moment.

"I should get back to the stream. Text me when you get home, yeah?"

"Will do."

It isn't until the chill of the December wind hits him outside that he stops feeling her warmth in his arms.

Booker is fucked.

...

_(Group Chat: The Boys TM)_

Joe (10:00) You were great on Nile's stream tonight, Book

Nicky (10:01) Yeah, you only looked like you were hopelessly in love with her forty-seven times.

Booker (10:02) I hate both of you

Joe (10:03) No you don't we're the reason you knew Nile existed/met her/got on stream

Booker (10:03) I have complicated feelings about both of you

Nicky (10:04) More accurate, thank you

Joe (10:05) You blushed every time she called you 'baby.' The chat kept count

Booker (10:06) I hate you again, good night

…

_Hannah (@yusolo69) 2hr_

Did anyone else see how @bookerlelivre was looking at @nilefreeman on her stream tonight? I ship it. What do we think, #bookofnile or #lelibre? #theoldsquad

_Melissa (@joeheartsnicky) 2hr_

I vote #bookofnile, @yusolo69. And you're totally right, it's like she hung the moon for him or something. #theoldsquad

_Darren (@theoldsquadgoals) 2hr_

Okay #theoldsquad fans, friendly reminder not to tag the creators in your ship posts! Keep things respectful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No promises that the next turnaround will be this quick, but here's chapter two for now!


	3. Interlude 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James Copley's "Internet Update," Stephen Merrick spilling "tea," and Booker having a tiny crisis

Wednesday, December 16th

...

_"The Old Squad adds Nile Freeman to the Group" (James Copley)_

James Copley, a handsome black man in a cozy-looking sweater, sits in front of a green screen.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to a special edition of Internet Updates," Copley says with a polite British accent. The Internet Updates logo appears beside him with a special edition stamp on top. "It will be a short one, but I wanted to make sure this was timely. For the first time in years, a new member has been added to what fans lovingly call 'The Old Squad.'"

A photo collage of Joe, Nicky, Andy, Quynh, and Booker pops up. Quynh's photo is older than the others', a promotional photo from her MMA career.

"If you haven't heard of them before, the Old Squad is a group of YouTube creators in their thirties and forties, so called because of jokes people have made about their leader. Andy, also known as former MMA star Andromache the Scythian, started YouTube when she retired from the league for being, quote, 'too old to heal properly' after a dangerous abdominal injury."

One of Andy's old MMA promotional shots pops up, followed by screenshots of the final fight, her injury, and her retirement announcement.

"The Old Squad is famous for being low key, low drama, and fairly low change. There has not been much in the way of news from Andy and her friends since Joe and Nicky al-Kaysani finally got together - and got married - in twenty-thirteen." James gestures to an image of Joe and Nicky's wedding. The two men look besotted, Joe in a cream suit and Nicky in deep blue.

"Since then, their little corner of the internet has been without too much change. All of their channels have managed to grow over the past few years, weathering many an Ad-pocalypse thanks to a strong, supportive fan base on Patreon."

As he speaks, Social Blade screenshots rotate through for each of the various Old Squad channels.

"That is, until earlier this month. Joe, who has been doing Vlogmas yearly for as long as it has existed, invited up-and-comer Nile Freeman onto the channel."

The opening clip from Joe and Nile's "Art in Conversation" plays.

"Hello, my friends, welcome to another episode of Art in Conversation. I am Yusuf al-Kaysani, but you may call me Joe." Joe smiles brilliantly, his perfectly-white teeth standing out against his full beard. "Joining me today in honor of the fourth day of Vlogmas is up-and-coming illustrator, Youtuber, and twitch streamer, Nile Freeman."

There is a jump-cut back to Copley.

"He and Nicky then collaborated with Nile on her channel. This is standard protocol for a Joe al-Kaysani vlogmas collab. The difference is here."

A clip from Nile's stream takes over the screen.

"Hey guys, welcome to my Tuesday night stream. Joining me, by popular demand, is Booker le Livre."

Booker waves awkwardly at the camera. The clip skips forward.

"Y'all, be civil or you're gonna scare him off," Nile says. "Booker, baby, distract them with a travel story or something."

Booker turns bright red. The screen goes back to Copley.

"It is very rare that Booker le Livre collaborates with any YouTube personality outside of the squad, preferring video guests from other walks of life."

"The Fandom has already latched on to the idea of Nile being part of The Old Squad, but tweets from this week announcing a collaboration with Andy are the final key to unlocking the truth. Nile Freeman has been adopted into The Old Squad, and so far, the potential positive impact for everyone involved is exponential."

The graphics fade out, and James moves to center.

"Subscribe and ring the bell to stay on top of Internet Updates weekly and commentary videos twice a month. Have a lovely day, friends. See you on Friday."

...

_"Onision is still a thing? The goddamn Paul Brothers. And Booker le Livre has a heart?" (Stephen Merrick)_

(11:06)

"...moving on, before I have a Maverick-sized headache." Stephen flips through his notes. "Ah yes, Booker le Livre and his insanely obvious crush on the beautiful and far-too-young Nile Freeman."

Stephen pops up a still from Nile's stream.

"If you don't give a shit about The Old Squad, I do not blame you. Feel free to leave here, like and subscribe, all that shit. You've watched past the ad breaks. What more could I ask of you?"

He pauses.

"Still here? Good. Anyway, this past Tuesday was the first time in a decade online that thirty-seven-year-old Booker le Livre has shown any indication of romantic interest."

The clip from Nile's stream starts.

"Y'all, be civil or you're gonna scare him off," Nile says. "Booker, baby, distract them with a travel story or something."

Booker turns bright red. The screen goes back to Merrick.

"This is only the first time of many that Booker blushes like a schoolboy when Ms. Freeman talks to him. Obviously, the Ice King is beginning to thaw, over a woman eleven years his junior." Merrick smirks. "We so rarely see any drama out of the miniscule Fandom surrounding The Old Squad. It's nice to know that hope isn't dead. Maybe we'll see a nice juicy scandal out of them at some point. A man can dream.”

...

_(Group chat: Gus' parents)_

Booker (8:34) I hate that little twerp with the fire of a thousand suns

Quynh (8:35) Twitter told you not to watch it, Book

Booker (8:38) Since when have I listened to Twitter about anything?

Quynh (8:40) Sounds like now is the time to start. Did you see Copley's internet update? It was much more level-headed

Booker (8:45) I did. At least one drama channel isn't completely up my ass about it

Quynh (8:50) He's one of the good ones, luckily.

Quynh (8:51) He's the only one who hasn't used a stolen photo of me, just old promos and the occasional cap from one of Andy's videos

Booker (8:52) Journalistic integrity, how rare

Andy (9:02) Only you would have a crisis while I was in class, Book

Andy (9:03) You good?

Booker (9:04) _Image: a glass of whiskey sitting on Andy's coffee table, in front of a disinterested Gus._

Andy (9:05) I'm on my way up. Babe?

Quynh (9:07) On my way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a teacher, so my update schedule will be unpredictable. Don't worry, DragonflyDreams will keep me motivated! For now, enjoy this snippet.


	4. The Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nile goes home for Christmas, the squad celebrates New Year's, and a snowman is built.

Thursday, December 17th

...

Nile (1:05) Hey Book, I know it's like 1 am, but I just wanted to say fuck Merrick, yeah?

Nile (1:06) that little shit is always talking out of his ass

Nile (1:06) I dont want you to get hung up on his bullshit and think we can't be friends or anything

Nile (1:07) because like I think you're really cool and he just wants to stir shit up

Nile (1:08) Joe said you tend to be more sensitive to drama so like... don't get in your head about it. Hes nothing. We're good

Nile (1:10) in other news, am I really a member of the squad now? Do we have matching jackets? Can we get matching jackets?

Nile (1:15) You're probably sleeping. I should go to bed, huh? Good night Book

Booker (10:45) Thanks, Nile. I needed that.

Nile (11:32) Any time

Booker (11:35) And no, we don't have matching jackets

Nile (11:36) boo. We should get them, it would be very boy band of us

Nile (11:38) If I design them would you wear them?

Booker (11:40) Have you slept at all?

Nile (11:45) Sleep is for the weak

Booker (11:46) Sleep is for the mentally stable

Nile (11:57) mental stability is overrated

Nile (12:01) You didn't answer my jacket question

...

Friday, December 18th

...

Nile usually streams on twitch Monday through Thursday evenings and every other Saturday. Today, however, is a special event.

"I see a few new friends popping in." Nile waves, turning her attention to the chat. "Happy Friday!"

A bits message comes in.

"Yusolo69 - oh, hi Hannah, glad you made the stream. Hannah says 'why are you streaming on a Friday? Usually it's your night off.'" Nile gestures to roughly where the donation widget is. "I'm raising money to go home to see my mom for Christmas. I already spent my Christmas budget on getting her car fixed, so this is the only way to make it work this year. Anything is amazing and I'd be so grateful, but you're free to just hang out as always. I'm designing Holiday cards!"

Nile is about an hour, three Holiday card designs, and fifty-seven dollars into the stream when someone pays for a text-to-speech message.

" _Tweeted the link on all our accounts. Squad fam incoming. Love, Quynh,_ " the computer reads out.

Nile's eyes go wide as her audience numbers go from fifteen or twenty to well over a thousand in two minutes.

"Are you... are you kidding me? That's insane! Oh my god." Nile wouldn't dare ask for a favor like this, but she's not about to argue. "Thank you so much, Quynh, Christ."

Her original two-hundred-dollar goal is filled almost instantly. At least one of the transactions is over a hundred dollars, and Nile can't fucking breathe.

"This is overwhelming. Thank you guys, so much." Nile sniffles. She ups the goal on the donation widget to three hundred. "You guys are too nice to me."

Nile has to take a second to breathe and grin and shake loose some fresh nerves.

"Welcome, new people! I'll read your individual thank yous in a little bit. I'm Nile, this is my art stream, and I am so, so happy to have you. I'm drawing Holiday cards tonight, so put ideas and suggestions in the chat. The finished set will go up on my site for download tomorrow, perfect for last-minute gifts."

Nile spends most of the next hour sketching card ideas while she reads out thank yous for all her new follows and subs and dozens of bits messages.

By the time she wraps up the stream, the "Nile be home for Christmas" fund is well over five hundred dollars, her follower count is up by over a thousand, her sub count is up by a hundred, and Nile can't stop tearing up. When she agreed to collaborate with Joe and Nicky, she didn't realize she was being adopted into a family, not like this.

"Thank you so much, everyone, especially if you stuck it out to the end," Nile says as she closes out. "I appreciate each and every one of you, and I'm thrilled that the squad fans have claimed me already. Thank you, and good night."

Quynh calls almost as soon as Nile ends the stream.

"Hey, thank you so much for the shout outs."

"Any time, honey." Quynh pauses, hums quietly. "He's gonna kill me, but... it was Booker's idea to shout out your stream on the official Twitter accounts. He didn't want me to tell you, because he likes to pretend he doesn't pay attention to this kind of thing."

"I already know his grouchy act is a persona," Nile says, her smile fond and involuntary. "Thank him for me."

"Will do. Good night, Nile, and Merry Christmas. Enjoy Chicago with your mom."

"I will. Thank you again. Good night, Quyhn."

Nile takes a moment to scream, finally letting out the energy that has been building all evening.

She texts Booker while she gets ready to go to bed.

Nile (11:07) Thank you

Booker (11:08) fr what

Nile (11:09) Don't bullshit me, Booker. You know what

Booker (11:10) yrbwelcome

Nile (11:11) Are you drunk?

Booker (11:13) no mfine

Nile doesn't respond. She doesn't feel comfortable interacting with him right now. It's hard to know how to respond when their tentative friendship is so new.

Booker (11:24) okah maybe I'm drunk

Nile (11:30) good night, Book

...

Friday, December 25th

...

"Aunt Nile, wake up wake up wake up! Santa came!" Kennedy bounces on her bed, shaking her awake. "C'mon, Gramma says we can't open presents without you!"

"Junior!" Nile yells.

Nile's brother comes running.

"Kennedy, baby, we said to let Aunt Nile sleep." Junior scoops her up into his arms. "I'm sorry, Nile. We tried."

Nile stretches.

"It's fine. Just give me a minute, because I'm not quite a human being." Nile scratches her stomach. "Ken, honey, can you help your Daddy to make me a cup of coffee? I'm more likely to get up that way."

"We can do that!" Kennedy tugs on Junior's shirt. "C'mon, Daddy. We need to make coffee!" 

Nile takes her moment of peace to send a few important texts. She says Merry Christmas to her roommate group chat, to her newest group chat with all five of the squad, and to Booker specifically.

(Andy and Quynh said he usually hides in his room for most of Christmas.)

Nile (8:07) I know it's early, but Merry Christmas! Joyeaux Noël!

Nile (8:07) Don't judge me if I got that wrong, I took Spanish in high school so I had to Google it 

By the time Nile makes it to the kitchen, Kennedy is nearly bouncing out of her skin. Nile wraps her arm around her mom's waist and kisses her cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Mama Bear."

Mom hugs her tight. "Merry Christmas, baby. Did you sleep alright?"

"I did, until an elf woke me up. Breakfast smells good."

"It might have to wait until we let Kennedy open something. She's too excited to sit, let alone eat."

Nile remembers being four on Christmas morning, being so excited for new toys that you could barely breathe.

"I think that can be arranged. Come on, Kiddo, let's get this show on the road."

Kennedy sprints for the Christmas tree, but Junior stops Nile on her way over.

"Thank you for being here," he says softly. "Mel is working overtime to cover for another nurse. She won't be home until noon."

"We'll save a few presents for when she gets home," Nile promises. "And I'll take a million pictures."

Junior kisses the top of her head. "You're the best."

"I know."

An hour later, the living room is ankle deep in a snow drift of paper, Kennedy smack in the middle. Nile takes a minute to gather all the detritus into a garbage bag while the gremlin is content.

She takes several pictures of Kennedy playing with her new veterinarian office play set, the big one from Little Tikes with an x-ray station and a check-up table. She makes sure to get at least one from the back, so she can post it to Instagram.

**Nilefreeman: Thank you to all my wonderful subscribers who made this little lady's Christmas dream a reality. I don't post her face, but trust me, her grin could light Wrigley Field. #auntnile #theoldsquad**

"Okay, we're gonna save everything else for when your mama gets home, deal? We all opened three presents, and you got your big one."

Kennedy nods, engrossed with her new veterinary practice.

"Wait until Mama sees! I'm gonna be the best animal doctor ever, Aunt Nile, just you wait." Kennedy holds the stethoscope to the chest of her plush Jack Russell. "Napoleon's heart sounds not right. He needs four shots of medicine so he'll be better."

Melanie is missing some cute shit. Nile pulls out her good camera to record some of Dr. Kennedy's adventures.

"You made a pretty cute kid," Nile jokes when Junior brings her more coffee.

"I like to think so, but I'm partial." Junior grins. "She takes after her mom." 

Nile's phone buzzes with incoming texts.

Booker (9:31) Merry Christmas, Nile.

Booker (9:32) I'm glad you're having fun with your family. It looks like your niece is happy with her presents

Nile (9:33) She is. And it's thanks to the influx of fans on my Christmas stream, so thank you.

Booker (9:40) I won't argue this time. You're welcome

Nile (9:41) Good. I'll get you trained yet.

... 

Thursday, December 31st

...

Nile hasn't been in Andy's gym before, but she's seen it in her videos. Collette, the receptionist, gestures toward the back.

"I'm going to lock up here in about twenty minutes. Boss said to send you upstairs. Enjoy the party."

"Thanks. Happy New Year!" Nile shoulders her bag and heads up the stairs to Andy and Quynh's apartment.

Andy has the door open before Nile can knock, ushering Nile inside with a smile.

"Welcome, I hope you found it okay. Come on in. We're just hanging out while Quynh and Nicky finish up the food."

Nile sits on the couch, and a huge orange cat with only one ear crawls into her lap. The room goes silent.

"What?"

"Gus doesn't like anyone," Joe says, marveling. "Only Booker."

"He's lived a very difficult life," Andy explains. "Apparently, he likes you."

Nile gently scratches behind Gus' one ear, and he purrs like an engine with a rock in it.

"Aren't you just the prettiest boy? So handsome. You have good taste, don't you?" Nile finds a spot along his throat that makes him melt. "Ohh, lookit the sweet boy, all soft and cozy. Pretty little man."

Gus purrs loud enough to fill the living room, and Nile grins when she makes eye contact with Booker.

"Guess that makes two of us on the Gus-approved list, huh?"

"Guess so," Booker says, a fond warmth in his eyes. "Smart cat."

Nile doesn't really register the comment, too focused on the cat to pay much attention.

"You didn't have to come early," Andy says, once the Gus situation has settled in. "I appreciate that you offered, though."

"Many hands make light work," Nile says. "Besides, I would just be sitting at home fucking around with my makeup. It's best not to pass the event horizon of the ideal look, or I'd have to start all over again."

"I think you look beautiful," Joe says. "Very sparkly and shiny to show off your beauty. Right, Booker?"

Nile flutters her eyelashes at Booker, who blushes.

"Right, yes. Sure."

Before Joe can poke fun at Booker any longer, Quynh and Nicky declare the food done, and the rush to get everything set up downstairs begins. Collette cleaned at closing, but turning the gym from a workout space to a party space takes some effort.

Between the six of them, they get the equipment put away or pushed to the sides and the mats piled in the back studio.

"I'm locking this, because last year someone fucked on my mats and it was a disaster," Andy announces.

"I worry about people," Nile says, shaking her head.

"As well you should."

Somehow, in the space of an hour, they get tables set up with a huge spread of food, a bar is pulled out of the back office and set up for drinks, and various things to sit on are scattered about the space.

"I'm impressed. We went from gym to warehouse to club in under two hours." Nile stretches, and her sparkly crop-top rides up. "I should go put on my cute shoes now, I guess. I didn't bring them not to wear them."

"Put your stuff in the apartment," Quynh says. "We lock it to keep out the masses and keep Gus safe."

"Sounds perfect."

By the time Nile makes it up the stairs and back down, the party has begun.

The crowd grows over the next few hours. Nile meets roughly a hundred or so beautiful queer people, because Andy and Quynh attract them in droves, and she dances with at least a dozen. In between, she eats delicious food and drinks semi-expensive alcohol and has a generally delightful time.

It's about eleven-thirty when Nile takes a second to breathe and eat a couple of Nicky's amazing canapés. She props herself up in a corner near the front desk, content to watch the mayhem and enjoy her spinach puffs.

A tall blonde woman in a slinky blue dress leans against the wall beside her.

"You're Nile, right? Am I bothering you?"

"Yes, and no. You're welcome to join me in holding up this wall." Nile smiles. "You have me at a disadvantage. What's your name?"

"Jennifer. I'm the yoga instructor here."

"Oh, I think I've seen you in a few of Andy's videos. That explains why you looked so familiar."

"How does it feel to be pulled into their orbit?" Jennifer asks, eyebrows raised.

Nile knows exactly what she means.

"Like... like the best possible overwhelm. Warm and cozy and homey. But like... a lot."

"I respect that." Jennifer sips her drink. "I watched your collabs with all of them. You do good work."

"Thank you." Nile chews thoughtfully on a spinach puff. "It's weird, being recognized, even in smaller settings like this."

"Get used to it, kid. You're crazy talented. This is only the beginning."

"It's been just over a month, but my whole world is starting to change."

"You deserve it," Jennifer says warmly.

"Thank you," Nile says softly, caught by her beauty for a moment. "I... I really needed that, I think."

"Good." Jennifer looks over as someone calls her name. "I should get back to my friends. You know where to find me if you ever want to talk."

That was flirting, right? Nile is only slightly tipsy, but it's enough to cloud her judgment. Pretty girls are very distracting.

Nile finishes her canapés and looks around for her friends. Andy and Quynh are dancing, looking beautiful and in love. Joe and Nicky are at the bar, looking beautiful and in love.

Where is Booker?

Nile winds through the crowd, trying to see if Booker is talking with someone or dancing or something. He's nowhere to be found. Maybe he went upstairs?

Andy looks up when Nile taps her shoulder.

"I think Booker went upstairs," Nile says over the music.

Andy pulls a keyring out of her suit pocket and hands it to her. 

"If you want to go check on him, more power to you. He's probably sulking and drinking."

...

When Nile finally gets upstairs, Booker is slumped in the recliner, half-empty bottle in his hand, and Gus asleep on his chest.

"Oh, Book..." Nile closes the door behind her and takes off her loud stiletto boots. "Booker, honey, are you awake?"

She’s gentle when she takes the bottle from him, smoothing his hair back with her other hand. Nike has known Booker for three weeks, but she feels so protective of him already.

He stirs awake, grumbling.

"Who? Oh, Nile." Booker scrubs a hand over his face. "Time's it?"

"Time for you to go to bed, baby. C'mon, you've had enough to drink, yeah?"

Gus and Booker make the same rumbling protest when Booker stands, swaying in place. Nile keeps a hand on his arm to steady him.

Booker kicks his boots off and flops into bed, fully clothed. Gus hurries up onto the bed and plants himself firmly on Booker's back, tucking his gnarled little face against Booker's shoulder blade.

"God, that's adorable." Nile finds a throw blanket on the desk chair and tosses it over Booker. "You good, Book?"

Booker grumbles something in French, muffled by the blankets.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Nile pours a glass of water from the fridge and sets it on his bedside table.

"Phone?" He tosses it, and Nile plugs it in. "I'm going back downstairs. Gus, take care of him for me."

Nile pets Gus quickly, encourages Booker not to face plant in the pillow, and heads downstairs as the clock hits midnight.

"Happy New Year, Booker," Nile murmurs to herself.

What is his deal?

When she brings Andy the keys, Andy and Quynh exchange knowing looks. Nile decides she’s not going to stress about it, not tonight.

Tonight, she's just going to dance.

...

Monday, January 11th

...

Booker (11:30) How can you say Shrek 2 is the best Shrek?

Nile (12:12) Shrek 2 is a cinematic masterpiece!

Nile (12:12) Come on, the emotional depth? The nuance? The most iconic version of I Need a Hero ever?

Booker (12:15) You can never beat the original. It broke the mold of so many other movies, and it is a bastion of petty decisions

Nile (12:16) That's fine. You're entitled to your wrong opinion

Booker (12:30) I need to work. I'll text you later.

Nile (7:45) If I CashApp you money, will you pick up falafel and come join me on stream? I'm having a slow night and I'd really like someone to talk to

Nile (7:48) The chat is asking about you. They miss your grumpy face.

Booker (8:00) What do you want me to get you?

Nile (8:02) You're the bestttttt

...

Saturday, January 16th

...

Nile calls Booker as she pulls on her waterproof boots.

"It's snowing! Grab Quynh and Andy, and meet me at the 10th Ave entrance to Prospect Park."

"Good morning to you too, Nile. I'm doing fine, thank you," Booker says, dry as the Sahara.

"Oh, fuck off, I'm excited!" Nile sets her phone down to pull on her hoodie. "You're coming to play in the snow with me, right? And you'll ask Andy and Quynh."

"Fine. Yes, fine, I'll ask them, and some combination of us will be at the park in an hour."

"Good, because Joe and Nicky have the studio kitchen today, so they have to work on Nicky's videos while they have it rented, and my girls both have work today. Y'all three are my last resort, and I don't want to play in the snow alone. It isn't nearly as fun."

"I'll be there in an hour, with or without the girls, okay?"

"Okay. I'll see you soon."

Nile takes her time walking, enjoying the snowflakes as they fall. She posts up against the fence, warm in her winter get-up and thrilled to be out in fresh snow.

Booker arrives alone, wrapped in a thick trench coat and scarf with one of his obnoxious hats topping off the look.

"Booker, hi!" Nile hugs him quickly, too excited not to. "No girls?"

"Quynh said they had plans. They send their love."

"We'll have to take lots of pictures to send them, then. And for Instagram, of course." Nile gestures to the path. "Let's go!"

The snow-covered meadow is beautiful. It snowed enough to look fresh even with kids obviously playing in it most of the morning.

"God, I love the snow. It's so beautiful, and it doesn't stay this pretty for long. You have to enjoy it when you can, you know?"

Nile scoops up a handful of snow and packs it into a snowball.

"Maybe we can make a snowman? I'm not great at sculpting, but we can manage something together."

Booker, meanwhile, is standing with his hands in his pockets, looking like a harbinger of doom.

"You're being far too grumpy for a beautiful day like this," Nile declares. "Can't you at least try and have fun?"

"I never have fun," Booker deadpans.

He gasps when Nile hits him in the face with her first perfect snowball.

"You're a little shit."

"And you're a coward," Nile taunts, bending down to gather more snow. "Fight me, Booker."

She doesn't expect Booker to hit her so quickly, snow sliding into her scarf down her neck. Nile retaliates as soon as possible, packing a solid snowball and throwing it at his chest.

The next ten minutes is spent laughing and shrieking and flinging snow, until finally Booker calls for a truce.

"I'll help you make a damn snowman, if we can stop throwing snow at each other," Booker says, holding his hands up.

Nile can't stop giggling, her hands on her knees.

"Deal."

Together, they roll balls of snow big enough for a fairly sizeable snowman, building him at the base of a tree to protect him from errant tobogganers and toddlers on saucers. Booker find sticks for arms while Nile sculpts his face, and they top it off with Booker's ridiculous wide-brimmed fedora for flavor.

"I love him," Nile announces, taking multiple pictures for Instagram. "We should take a group portrait of the three of us, come on."

Booker refuses to smile for the photo, but he can't hide the mirth in his eyes.

Nile posts the final snowman photo to Instagram, along with the group portrait and one of Booker rolling his eyes at her as he shapes the torso of the snowman.

**nilefreeman: Snow on a Saturday means dragging a grouchy friend to the park to have a snowball fight and build a snowman. How did @BookerleLivre and I do on this guy? I think he's a handsome snowperson, but I'm partial.**

Content with their snowman, Booker retrieves his hat and they go off in search of hot cocoa. Drinks procured, they find a bench in the sun to claim as their own and watch the world go by.

"Thank you for coming to the park, Book," Nile says after a while. "I know it seems silly, but it means a lot that you took the time to come hang out today."

"I've had fun," Booker says. He sips his cocoa. "I'm cold and damp, but I had fun. Thank you for inviting me."

Nile scoots closer, like she can share her warmth if their arms are touching. It's better than nothing.

They sit in comfortable silence, existing in the moment without a push to fill the airspace.

It's nice.

A kid throws a ball, and it ends up near their bench. Booker picks it up, and the kid comes running over, a vaguely kid-shaped blob of parka and scarf.

"Toss it, Mister!" A tiny feminine voice demands.

"Please," her mother prompts.

"Please toss it, Mister!" The little girl parrots.

Booker smiles, a new smile compared to the others Nile has seen.

(She feels warmer than she has all day.)

"Are you ready, little one?"

"I'm ready!"

He tosses the ball gently, and the girl catches it.

"Thank you! Sorry I almost hit you! Bye mister, bye lady!" And the kid is off, back down the hill with her long-suffering mother in her wake.

"She's cute," Booker says, still smiling softly. "I'm impressed that she caught it."

"You have good aim," Nile points out.

"I suppose." Booker sits back. "Today is a good day to be a kid."

"I dunno. I'm having a pretty good day as a grown-up."

...

_Darren (@theoldsquadgoals) 1hr_

I'm gonna flip a goddamn table if people don't stop acting the fool on Nile's snowman post. Y'all, leave that poor woman the fuck alone.

_Nadia (@nilefreemanstan) 1hr_

(Replying to @theoldsquadgoals) Preach. I swear these people have no home training.

_Hannah (@yusolo69) 1hr_

(Replying to @theoldsquadgoals,@nilefreemanstan) Even I'm not trashy enough to put that shit in her comments. People have no manners these days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had a very very very long week. Thank you, DragonflyDreams, for sticking with me!


	5. The Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is hard, but sometimes friendship is easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags, my loves. Booker is sinking into his alcoholism in places, and there is mention of a homophobic family member. (See end notes for details on that.)

_"Day in the Life - Packing for Buenos Aires" (Booker le Livre)_

Soft royalty-free strings music plays over a title card. _Tuesday, February 2nd, 2020._

The opening shot is a wide shot of Booker's room at Andy and Quynh's, focused on his sleeping form under a blue comforter and Gus asleep on his neck. The alarm goes off, and Booker stretches, gently moving Gus from his neck to the other pillow. Booker stands to stretch further, revealing grey pajama pants and a worn-in Ramones t-shirt. Booker walks out of the range of the camera and (through the magic of editing) walks right back in with brushed hair, wearing basketball shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt with Andy's logo on it.

The video cuts to Andy's early riser kickboxing class, the video framed to show Andy, Booker, and the back of Quynh's head, but none of the other class members. The video speeds up through the routines and jump-cuts to a sweaty Booker with a towel around his neck holding the camera vlog-style.

"Good morning, everyone. Now that I am once more a human being, capable of speech, I will do the intro properly." Booker pushes his hair out of his face and grins ruefully. "Andy kicked my ass, as usual. My next step is to eat some breakfast and take a shower, and then I will begin packing for Buenos Aires. I will be in the city for three days to do a partially sponsored piece for the blog, and then I'll be back in New York, so this will be a carry-on only kind of trip. You'll see how I manage that as we continue through my day."

The video cuts to a freshly showered Booker making an omelet, close-up shots catching the details as he chops fruit for a fruit salad and carefully slides the omelet onto a plate. Booker sits at the table to eat, and Gus sits next to his plate, ignoring him until Booker offers him a piece of ham.

"There you go, you grumpy bastard. You just want someone to love you and feed you ham, huh?" Booker scratches Gus' neck, and his rattling purr is caught by the mic. "That's it, precious boy."

The next cut moves back into the bedroom, shot focused on the desk and Booker's computer.

"Andy and Quynh pay good money to have amazing internet, so I like to make good use of it when I'm home," Booker tells the camera. "Today I'll be editing and uploading my PEI video from my trip last week, which will be live on the channel before this one is. I'll put it in the cards and in the description in case you haven't had a chance to watch it yet."

He turns to face the desk, and the video ramps up in speed as he edits and uploads and answers work emails. Gus wanders in at some point, and he spends the editing session moving from desk to Booker's lap and back again. The sun moves across the room, shadows shifting, and it's clearly around noon when the video slows back down.

"Booker?" Quynh says from off-camera. "It's lunch time, dear. I made grilled cheese and tomato soup."

"Thank you," Booker says, hitting save and turning around to gently deposit Gus on the ground. "I lost track of time.” 

"You always do. Come get your close-up shots of lunch, and then you can eat."

"You know me so well."

The next shot is a close-up of a grilled cheese made on brioche with at least three kinds of cheese visible, next to a bowl of creamy tomato soup.

"You guys know the rules about Quynh in videos," Booker says, once again holding the camera vlog-style, back in his room. "I turned the camera off and talked with my friend like a normal human being for once. Now, I'm going to walk you through my process of packing for a trip with only carry-on items. Step one, pick your bags."

Booker turns the camera to point at the bed, where a utilitarian brown backpack and large camera bag are sitting on the bed.

"I like a backpack, because I often find myself in odd and sundry places where wheels or a duffle bag aren't practical. I call this one Old Faithful, because she has seen me through a lot." Booker opens the bag to show the padded interior laptop pocket and various smaller places to put things. "I use this as my carry on, and it will hold my laptop, my clothing, and my toiletries. Everything else I might need goes in the camera bag."

Booker moves to show the camera bag, which has his other lenses, batteries, and charger already packed.

"Obviously, I cannot pack my camera yet, as I am filming this video. I use this bag because it fits comfortably under a plane seat without jostling too much, it has a strong strap I can wear across my body for safe-keeping, and it has good external pockets for my passport, wallet, and medications."

Booker turns the camera back to his face to glare sternly at the audience.

"Even if you are travelling all over the world, keep up with your health. It doesn't matter how many countries you've been to if you end up sick in the process." He smiles gently. "Self-care matters, even if you're kind of shit at it like I am. Now for step two, picking what to pack. I'm going to be changing hemispheres, which means going from winter to summer. I'll wear a coat to get to the airport and get on the plane, but I'll pack for hot weather."

The shot changes to a tripod-view of Booker going through his closet, digging short-sleeved shirts and a pair of cargo shorts out of the back of the drawers. He selects a lighter-weight denim shirt from a comical number of denim shirts on hangers and pulls a straw wide-brimmed fedora out of a hatbox on the top shelf.

"One of my favorite parts of travelling is getting to experience multiple seasons in the span of a week," Booker says. "Now for step three, getting all the shit into the bag. Roll, don't fold, and make good use of your space."

The footage speeds up as Booker packs, carefully tucking everything into his bags. He sits on the corner of the bed and the footage goes back to normal.

"That's everything I can pack for now. I'll put my laptop and camera in their places when I'm done with them tonight. I've got some more editing to do, and then I'll figure out what my evening looks like. Andy and Quynh have some sort of benefit thing they're going to, so I'm at loose ends for now."

There's another sped-up clip of Booker (and Gus) editing, the room getting darker this time. Booker checks his phone, and the clip slows down as he faces the camera

"Apparently, my evening plans just made themselves known. Nile asked me to bring her dinner, and I've been invited on stream. We’ll see how this goes."

The next clip is a hand-held close-up of Booker passing cash to a falafel food-truck employee and receiving a bag of food in return.

The video quality changes from HD vlog to twitch stream, showing Nile's latest botanical work-in-progress with Booker and Nile in the corner on face-cam.

"I feel honored that you're going to put me in your video," Nile teases. "After all, you've been on stream several times, but I've yet to be in anything of yours."

"We'll have to do a formal collab at some point, when I'm back in town. Before my European tour in April."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Nile stops drawing and holds up her pinky. "Pinky swear?"

"This is juvenile," Booker says as he holds up his own pinky to link with hers. "Fine, pinky swear."

Nile points at her camera. "You saw that, right, chat? We're going to do formal collabs, with chat as our witness."

Booker rolls his eyes. "Go back to what you were saying about your day?"

"Oh, right, the bitch at the bodega. Anyway, so I was just trying to get some goddamn Lucky Charms, right?"

The clip cuts to Booker in his room again.

"I am very tired, and I have an early morning, so I'm going to call it a night here. Thank you for watching this mundane video. Hopefully I was able to add value to your life. All of my links are in the description if you want to keep up with my travels on instagram or the blog, or support the channel financially. _Good night, my friends. Remember, le monde est un livre, lisez-le attentivement. Au revoir_."

_End screen._

…

Wednesday, February 10th

…

Despite what a vocal pocket of their audience thinks, Booker is not head-over-heels in love with Nile. His initial infatuation has tempered as their friendship grows, as he gets to know her as a person and not just as an internet personality.

They've begun a quest to find the best fries in the city, with a hashtag and everything (#fryhunt2021). They spend several evenings watching Disney Channel Original Movies because Nile insists he missed a vital part of his youth by never seeing any of them. They share book and song recommendations. Nile goes with him on several stops of his New York museum tour series for the blog.

They're friends, quickly becoming best friends

(And if Booker sometimes loses the ability to breathe when Nile laughs like she’s exploding, or when the light hits her a certain way, well, that’s no one’s business but his own.)

None of this makes it any easier when he comes out of the back office at the gym to find Quynh holding a camera while Andy and Nile spar. Nile is wearing pink leggings and a matching sports bra, boxing gloves on her hands. She moves quickly, hitting Andy's paddles with reasonable skill.

Booker's brain completely goes offline, his face going blank out of self-preservation.

This is what he gets for trying to be helpful. He spent so long fixing the goddamn internet that he forgot Nile was coming over to collab with Andy.

"Booker, hi!" Nile waves one gloved hand and goes back to hitting the paddles. "Internet back up?"

"Yep, we're good," Booker finally manages. "I'm just gonna… go test it on my computer upstairs to make sure. I'll see you when you get done."

He all but runs up the stairs, intensely aware of Quynh pointing the camera at him.

It's fine. He's fine.

(He screams into his pillow for a second and takes a quick shower for absolutely no reason, but he's fine.)

Nile (11:44) I'm done with Andy and Quynh, want to go get lunch? We can make another entry in the fry hunt.

Nile (11:45) I'm gonna shower and change in the locker room. Thirty-minute warning for lunch

Booker (11:50) Sounds good.

It gives him enough time to force his attention onto something else, anything else other than the muscles in Nile's arms flexing as she punches and her ass in those leggings and- anything else.

They pick a diner near the gym that they haven't been to together yet, a tiny hole-in-the-wall that Andy swears by and Quynh hates.

Somehow, after a proper fry hunt index (Quynh was right, the fries are soggy), they end up on the topic of family.

"I've heard you talk about your mom and your brother. Is it just the two of you? Any other siblings?"

Nile shakes her head, poking at her cold hash browns.

"It's just us. My dad was killed in action when I was eleven and Junior was nine." Nile shrugs. "My mom, she was drowning after he died. South side of Chicago, a million different ways we could have went left. She fought for us, never backed down. Never let us back down either." 

"She sounds like a hell of a woman," Booker says.

"She is. She's the reason I am who I am today, why I was able to work my ass off and get the scholarships, the reason Junior and Melanie are able to raise Kennedy in a safe environment even though they had her young." Nile smiles, sad around the edges. "You should come with me to Chicago sometime and meet the family."

"I would be honored, Nile."

They eat in silence for a minute, processing.

"What about you?" Nile asks quietly. "You never really talk about family."

"Andy and Quynh are my family. Nicky and Joe, they are my family." Booker wishes he had something stronger than Coke in his glass. "My mother passed when I was fifteen. My father… he disowned me when I was twenty. I haven't spoken to him since."

"Oh, Book…"

Booker doesn't dare make eye contact. It's too early in the day for this much vulnerability. He's too sober for this.

"You don't need to tell me," Nile says softly, reaching across the table to touch the back of his hand. "I'm here if you want to, though."

"I told him that I was in love, and that I was going to move in with my boyfriend when the next semester started at NYU," Booker finally says. "He told me that he wasn't going to have a faggot for a son."

"Jesus fuck." Nile squeezes his hand, and Booker turns his wrist so she can hold it properly.

"He didn't have time for the nuance of bisexuality when he saw me standing there holding Andrew's hand." Booker shrugs. "It's been almost seventeen years. Last I heard from the only cousin that still talks to me, he's got three kids with the woman he married after I left. I can only hope he's a better father for them."

"You didn't deserve that," Nile says, insulted on his behalf. "Jesus, Booker, no one deserves that."

"I know. Believe me, my many therapists have helped me realize it." Booker stares at their entwined fingers. "It is what it is."

"You are a strong, successful man, and he is a bigoted asshole, and I know that I'm proud of what you've done with your life, even if he refuses to be," Nile says, so genuine that Booker's soul _aches._

"Thank you, Nile."

"Any time."

…

Sunday, February 14th

…

_(Group Chat: Matching Jackets)_

Andy (8:45) Booker, where did you go? Does anyone have eyes on Booker?

Joe (8:47) He is not here

Nicky (9:00) He is not at the bar by the house, we checked

Nile (9:01) I don't have him. Does he usually wander off like this?

Quynh (9:05) Certain days of the year

Booker (9:10) stopp talking like m not here m in the gorp chat

Andy (9:11) If you answered my calls we wouldn't have this problem, Sebastien

Nile (9:12) Ooh, government name

Joe (9:13) No one is angry, Booker, just tell us where you are

Booker (9:15) a bar

Joe (9:15) Where?

Booker (9:16) Edison

Andy (9:17) you went to NEW JERSEY?

Booker (9:20) Not purpose, bus took me here

Quynh (9:22) How do you even manage that, Booker?

Nicky (9:25) Will you be able to get home?

Nile (9:29) You guys enjoy your Valentine's day. I'll go get him.

Booker (9:32) don havve to do that nile

Nile (9:35) Drop a pin and don't move. I'm going to come get you.

… 

_Booker (@bookerlelivre) 12m_

Fuck valentine's day

_Booker (@bookerlelivre) 11m_

Lobe isdumb and I hate it, whys everyone in love all over everywhere

_Booker (@bookerlelivre) 10m_

je suis tout suell 

_Booker (@bookerlelivre) 10m_

*seul

_Booker (@bookerlelivre) 9m_

Friends are good love is dumb

_Booker (@bookerlelivre) 8m_

I have lost phone privileges until we are back at the apartment because I went to New Jersey while drunk and didn't tell anyone.

…

Thursday, February 18th

…

Booker wakes to his phone ringing. He flings a hand out, nearly dislodging Gus in the process, and somehow manages to answer.

"'llo?"

"Booker, hi, sorry, I know today was supposed to be your off day, but I kind of really need help." Nile sounds stressed, and Booker is suddenly very awake.

"Are you okay? Are you safe?"

"I'm okay, I'm fine, I'm just kind of freaking out because my photographer had to drop my booking but I already put a deposit on the studio space and I was wondering if you would come take my new headshots?" Nile says, all in a rush.

Booker takes a minute to parse the request.

"Right, you mentioned the new channel header." He rubs his forehead. "Send me the address. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"You are the best, Book. Thank you so much, I owe you one!"

Booker manages to get dressed and makes coffee to combat the hangover. He's getting too old to be this drunk two nights in a week. He's feeling distinctly more human by the time he gets to the studio Nile rented for her photoshoot.

"Hey, thank you so much for coming." Nile hugs him quickly. "We've got the space until noon."

"We can do a lot in an hour and a half, as long as you do not have too many intricate costume changes." Booker starts to set up his camera and tripod and Nile puts the finishing touches on her makeup.

The backdrop is a cerulean blue, which makes Nile's rich brown skin and simple white dress pop.

"Let's start standing and then do some with the chair," Nile says, arranging her braids the way she wants over her shoulder.

Because Booker is a professional, he's able to put aside both "Nile as a friend" and "Nile as a crush" and focus solely on "Nile as a photo subject." It's been a while since he did portraits and not landscape shots, but it's easy when your model is naturally photogenic.

Once Nile feels comfortable that she has enough in the white dress, she scoots into the dressing room to change.

"I want to do this part on the bricks, please," she calls over her shoulder.

Booker rolls up the blue backdrop to expose the hardwood floor and white-washed brick of the studio.

When Nile emerges, she's gone from a classy white dress with her braids down to a much more casual look. Her ubiquitous huge denim paint shirt all but swallows the tiny black crop top and biker shorts underneath. (He only knows that they're biker shorts and not 'leggings but smaller' because of Quynh.)

"Do we like the space buns with this look?" Nile asks, looking in the mirror by the studio door. "They're kind of a signature thing at this point."

"I think you look very nice," Booker says, trying not to imagine Nile in just the denim shirt (or one of _his_ denim shirts). He is a professional. She is his friend.

Nile grins, and Booker's heart flutters.

"Thank you, I try. Let's use the couch, yeah? Since I'm going more casual?" 

The rest of their time in the studio is spent taking pictures and shooting the shit. One of Booker's favorite shots comes after he makes Nile laugh with a quip about people at NYU - their shared alma mater.

Her smile could light up Manhattan, but her laugh lights up cold, dark bits of Booker's soul.

"Okay, our time is almost up. We should get cleaned up here, and you should put on warmer clothes before we go outside."

"Worrywart."

"I don't want you getting frostbite. Go put on some damn pants."

"Fine, be that way." Nile goes to change, and Booker finishes packing his equipment.

He waits patiently for Nile to come out with her bags, bundled up in a fluffy black coat with a scarf on.

"Much better. Much more weather-appropriate."

Nile rolls her eyes. "Come on, are we getting lunch or what?"

"I figured you were buying lunch, since you woke me up early on my day off, _and_ I saved you the rental fee."

"I think that can be arranged." Nile hooks her free hand in the crook of his elbow. "I forgot my touchscreen gloves. Look up diners we haven't been to yet."

…

Saturday, February 24th

…

_Andy (@andromache) 2hr_

Just posted the latest video, a collab with @NileFreeman. Amazing edit by @quynhbaby, thank you, my love

_Hannah (@yusolo69) 1hr_

Y'all, I cannot. #theoldsquad #reactiongifs

[Image ID: A gif of Booker le Livre looking like a deer in the headlights, captioned "*bisexual panic*"]

_Nadia (@nilefreemanstan) 1hr_

(Replying to @yusolo69) In Booker's defense, I too would make that face if someone blindsided me with Nile kicking ass in those leggings

_Melissa (@joeheartsnicky) 45m_

Booker is such a mood. I have a new favorite reaction gif, thank you @yusolo69

…

Wednesday, March 3rd

…

They have a tradition, and they have for almost twelve years now. No matter what, everyone does their best to be home on March 3rd.

_"I'm not going to have a faggot for a son! Either you get rid of him, or you get the fuck out of my house." A glass smashes against the wall. "Get out!"_

Booker sleeps until his body refuses to sleep anymore and then starts drinking in the hopes that he'll black out. By the time Joe and Nicky come over at four, he's pretty far gone.

_"I can't love you anymore. You make it fucking impossible." A glass smashes, and Booker flashes back to his father. Andrew knows what he's doing._

"Booker, the boys are here," Andy says. "They brought fries from the diner by their house. You need to eat."

"They're a four out of five," Nicky adds from the doorway. "I checked the fry hunt series."

Booker rolls over. The room spins 

"I should eat," he agrees. "Do I hafta move?"

"You really ought to," Nicky says firmly. "No feet on the floor, no fries."

So Booker staggers to the kitchen, ignoring everyone exchanging looks around him.

It's a double anniversary of the worst days of his life.

_"I'm not going to have a faggot for a son! Either you get rid of him, or you get the fuck out of my house." A glass smashes against the wall. "Get out!”_

Booker shovels fries into his mouth like he can soak up the pain with grease and potatoes.

_"I don't love you anymore, Sebastien. I want you out, now. Pack your shit and go."_

If anyone is wondering, it isn't working so far.

"Hey, I got the text. What's up?"

Nile's voice pierces his fog. What is she doing here?

"It's tradition, and it's complicated," Nicky explains. "He's in the kitchen."

Nile is wobbly when Booker looks up at her, all too-kind smile and too-soft eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey," Booker rasps.

"You wanna tell me why I'm here, honey?" Nile asks.

Booker shrugs. "Anniversary."

"Of getting disowned?"

"And Andrew breaking up with me," Booker manages, tears rolling down his cheeks. Fuck. "You don hafta stay."

"I think I do, baby." Nile sits beside him and steals a fry. "They said it's squad tradition. I'm squad now, right? I'm part of the family?"  
"Of course," Booker says, affronted at the very insinuation she might not be.

"In that case, I'm staying. Pass the ketchup."

After Booker eats and drinks enough water to make everyone happy, he returns to bed and his bottle. Joe comes in at some point to take the bottle away.

"I know it's hard, brother, but I'm cutting you off." He kisses his forehead, beard tickling his face. "Try and sleep. Tomorrow is going to suck enough for you already."

"Nile?"

"She's still here. I'll send her in." 

Nile sits on the side of his bed and pets his hair. "You're good, Booker. We've got you. Just rest."

"Thank you." Booker finally says, fresh tears falling at how fucking gentle she is with him.

(She deserves the world, deserves better than a broken man with an alcohol problem, should cut and run while she can, should-)

"Any time, Book."

She stays until Booker closes his eyes and starts to drift to sleep. He isn't completely under enough not to hear her and Nicky in the hallway, though.

"Is he going to be okay?" Nile asks quietly. She sounds worried. Nile should never sound worried, not about him.

"As okay as he ever is," Nicky says with a sigh. "Today is always hard. His ghosts are loudest."

"I don't mean to overstep my place, but…" Nile hesitates, and Booker strains to hear her next thought. "Has he ever had help for the alcohol problem? Professional help, I mean. In-patient or twelve steps, something."

"Many therapists. None have stuck." Nicky sounds sad. "He is not always like this. The holidays are hardest, the anniversaries. We do what we can, but unless he makes the decision… All we can do is love him where he's at now, and hope for change in the future."

Sleep takes him down before he can hear Nile's response.

…

Nile (10:45) I'm going home. I'm here if you need me

Nile (10:47) I'm worried about you, Book. Call me tomorrow when you wake up, yeah?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Booker's father called him a f*ggot when he came out as bisexual at 20, and his father disowned him. Booker tells Nile about it and then deals (Poorly) with this will alcohol on the anniversary.  
> Written in the span of four hours because my muse is fickle and I write when the iron is hot.


	6. Interlude 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe and Nicky on stream, Internet Updates, and a shady text conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can thank my very boring meeting for this being done so soon.

_"Stream Highlights - Joe and Nicky al-Kaysani - 3/10/2021" (Nile Freeman)_

The video begins on a wider-than-normal face cam on Nile's stream taking up the whole screen, chat scrolling by in the corner.

"Chat, give me a moment to get YouTube up to speed," Nile says. "Today, I'm joined by Joe and Nicky al-Kaysani as part of my 500-sub celebration week. Joe is going to help me design the new round of emotes, and Nicky is here to look pretty and add colorful commentary and, apparently, judge the contents of my pantry."

"Having a limited income is no excuse for living primarily on packaged carbs and falafel you talk Booker into bringing you," Nicky says sternly, but his eyes are fond. "Woman cannot live on fried chickpeas alone."

"No, but I sure can try." Nile brandishes her Wacom pen. "Okay, friends, we're going to get down to business. Joe, you've got the list from the discord. Where should we start?"

"Let's see, we have so many options."

The face cam moves into the lower-left corner, and Nile pulls up the list.

"You've promised them at least five new emotes, and the most popular are the rest of the pride flags and more chibi Nile emotes and chibi squad members,” Joe says.

"Let's start with chibi squad members."

Nile pops reference images of Joe and Nicky onto the Illustrator canvas. The video speeds up as she draws, fast-forwarding through the conversation until she starts to add finishing touches.

"His hair must be curlier," Nicky insists. "My Joe's hair is like a beautiful cloud of curls."

Nile adds a few extra curls to the line-art.

"Happy now?"

"I am happy," Nicky agrees.

"You captured the light in his eyes, hayati," Joe says, looking at tiny chibi Nicky. "You are very talented."

"My eyes are little black dots, my love," Nicky points out.

"She is still very talented."

"Thanks, hon." Nile opens another file and adds a picture of Andy. "Since Nicky is a happy emote and Joe is a laughing one, I think I'm going to make Andy angry. Quynh's going to have a hoodie on, so she can be sneaky or cozy. We'll see. And Booker will be either grouchy or sad."

"Of course, these are just the beginning, yes?"

"Oh, for sure. As time passes, and as I have time to work, I'll roll out more emotes for everyone."

"I want one of Joe and I together, and then I want it as a sticker for my computer," Nicky suggests.

"I like the way you think, Nicky." Nile sticks out her tongue as she focuses. "Maybe Joe can draw us one when he takes his turn with the tablet."

"Way ahead of you. I have begun to plan one already." Joe holds his sketchbook up to the camera, showing simple cartoon Joe and Nicky looking adorable. "I will digitize it when Nile is done with the others."

"I'm going to make Joe and Nicky together a tier three emote," Nile says. "If you'd like to upgrade your subscription, you'll be on the cutting edge of adorable emotes, and also I will love you forever."

"That's our girl. Make that bag," Joe says, smirking.

Nile laughs. "Oh my God, you can't say shit like that, Old Man. It doesn't work with your vibe."

"I think she's right, beloved," Nicky says, laughing. "Your old soul does not work with such new slang."

"I'll add these to the reaction sticker pack on Patreon as well," Nile says. "Tell your friends. Nadia, baby, add that to my to-do list please."

"Nadia is one of your mods, yes?" Joe asks, eyes on his sketchbook.

"Yes, she's @nilefreemanstan on Twitter. Y'all go show her some love. She's my Monday/Wednesday moderator on twitch, as well as the head of my mod squad on the discord server."

"Nile's discord has inadvertently become an Old Squad server," Nicky adds. "Come talk, sometimes we even talk Booker into acknowledging its existence."

"No promises," Nile says. "He doesn't like Discord very much. Too many people."

"Still, you should join, make friends," Joe says. "If even an old man such as myself can enjoy it, so can you."

"You're so good at calls to action," Nile says, grinning.

"Years of practice," Nicky says, winking. "Since he's so old."

"I'm only one year older than you!"

"Yes. But it was a leap year," Nicky points out. 

"Y'all are a disaster. Flirt on your own time."

The video speeds up, showing Nile finishing the squad emotes and swapping places with Joe so he can work on the Yusolo emote. Nicky leaves the room and comes back with a reusable grocery bag. The video slows back down.

"Now that I have your attention, I believe we should discuss your eating habits," Nicky says.

"You sound like my mother."

"Good. From what I've heard, she is a good woman who loves you." Nicky pulls out the contents of his grocery bag.

The Wacom view and the face cam switch spots on screen, making the face cam larger so Nicky can show the audience his haul.

"Nile, I found four kinds of rice dishes, none of them plain rice. There are five kinds of pre-seasoned pasta, not including four flavors of ramen." Nicky shakes a box of Rice-a-Roni at the camera. "Your blood pressure must be insane! All of this salt in your diet."

"This is what I get for making friends with a chef, huh?" Nile asks straight to camera.

"Exactly, and you enjoy my cooking. Just because I make unhealthy food for special occasions does not mean I approve of poor gastronomic choices."

"What do you suggest I do, Nicky? We don't make great money, and we live in Brooklyn."

"I'm glad you asked, and that is a wonderful segue." Nicky high-fives her, and Joe rolls his eyes.

"I'm going to cut the video for YouTube here and post Nicky judging my life choices separately, so this wraps up the first of two videos for YouTube. Y'all know what to do! Bye, YouTube."

_End screen._

…

Booker (8:46) Nicky is right. You eat like a college student. That can't be good for you

Nile (9:02) Fucking rude. You don't get to enable me all the time and be mean to me too

Booker (9:05) Do you want me to stop bringing you falafel and going for fries?

Nile (9:07) Absolutely not, don't be hasty. Just maybe help me remember to eat a vegetable sometimes

Booker (9:15) I should teach you how to make my mom's ratatouille recipe sometime

Nile (9:16) Isn't that the Pixar movie with the rat who steers a useless twink by the hair?

Nile (9:17) No but seriously Booker that would be amazing. I know how carefully you guard your mom's recipes

Booker (9:18) I think she would have liked you. You deserve at least one of them

Nile (9:20) if you see my eyes red on stream, its absolutely not because I'm tearing up at that. Nope, not even a little bit

Nile (9:20) I just got an eyelash in my eye. That's all it is, for sure

Nile (9:24) Now chat is worried about why I'm all emotional out of nowhere, thank you

Booker (9:27) So that's a yes on the cooking lessons?

Nile (9:30) yes that's a yes, asshole

Nile (9:31) Also what's your twitch username? I never see anything recognizable in the chat

Booker (9:42) I'll never tell

...

_"Internet Updates: 3/26/2021" (James Copley)_

(12:32) "...however, personally I cannot believe either Paul brother is still in the news in 2021. Now, on to better news."

A screenshot from a website appears. The title says "Bronze Labrys Partners," and the page consists of headshots of each of The Old Squad, short bios, and various links to their social media profiles.

"The update we've been waiting for has taken place. Nile Freeman has officially joined as a partner of Bronze Labrys Productions, formalizing her addition to The Old Squad. This was announced on both the company Instagram page run by Quynh Tran and on Nile's personal Instagram." 

Both Instagram posts appear, a group shot of Nile, Andy, Joe, Nicky, and Booker all laughing at something, along with a picture of Andy and Nile shaking hands.

"Audience feedback has been very positive, and this move is going to be a positive one for all involved."

The graphics fade out, and James moves to center.

"Subscribe and ring the bell to stay on top of Internet Updates weekly and commentary videos twice a month. Have a lovely day, friends. See you next week."

...

Unknown (10:42) I have information you might be interested in

Stephen Merrick (10:45) I'd ask how you got this number, but I don't think I want to know

Unknown (10:50) You really don't. Do you want the information or not?

Stephen Merrick (11:02) That depends. What is it about?

Unknown (11:04) Booker le Livre

Stephen Merrick (11:06) I'm listening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, DragonflyDreams and I have big plans. Just you wait!


	7. The Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratatouille is made, Booker goes abroad, and Nile realizes something.

Friday, April 2nd

…

Nile walks into a whirlwind when she walks up the steps into Joe and Nicky's brownstone. Joe opens the door, and Nicky's voice follows him.

"Where did you put the madeleines, Yusuf? I had them right here a moment ago."

"You put them in the pantry for safekeeping, my love," Joe calls over his shoulder. He turns to Nile, smile a mile wide. "Nile!"

He scoops her into a tight hug, rumbling happily and making her giggle. Nile holds him as tight as she can, rumbling back as best she can.

"Nile is here, Nicky," Joe calls out. "Everyone is home now!"

There is something soul-affirming about Yusuf al-Kaysani welcoming you home. Nile hugs him again, just because she can.

"I didn't bring anything, because you told me not to," Nile says as she walks up the interior entry steps to hug a flour-covered Nicky. "I also wore joggers, so I've got plenty of room for pastries."

Nicky darts over to the open basement door and calls down, "at least someone reads my evites!"

"It's 2021, Nicolo," Andy calls back. "No one sends evites anymore!"

"You know it's passé when even Andy knows," Booker adds, followed by, "Ouch, fuck."

"Useless, all of you." Nicky throws up his hands "Go, join the heathens in my den. I will be down with food in a moment, beloved."

Nile kisses his cheek on her way by and jogs down the stairs to the den. Andy and Quynh are entwined in the oversized armchair, and Joe and Nicky have perma-dibs on the couch, which puts Nile and Booker on the loveseat. Booker is already sitting with a plateful of macarons in his lap.

Nile sits beside him, tucking her feet up (because sitting normally is for straight people) and snagging a macaron.

"Hello to you too, Nile."

"Hi, Booker," Nile says, muffled by the cookie she stole. 

"Just as a warning, we're about to start episode 3, and they've already started placing bets," Quynh says, smirking at Booker. "This can get ugly."

"I'm impressed he's managed to avoid spoilers this long," Nile says, grabbing a second cookie. "His internet blacklist must be a hell of a program."

"I work very hard to maintain the sanctity of the Great British Baking Show," Nicky says, coming down the stairs with a tray of delicious-looking pastries. "These are test-batches for the next cookbook."

"Already, Nico?" Nile asks. "Honey, the last one just came out this week."

"I know. The show is my reward for getting it finished," Nicky reminds her.

"And now the process begins anew," Joe says, grabbing something light and fluffy looking. "You get used to it."

"I don't argue. The food is too good," Booker says quietly.

Nicky sets the tray on the coffee table and lays on the couch against Joe's chest. They all settle in for series 11, episode 3: Bread Week.

Nile has basically no idea what she's getting herself into.

"I still miss Mel and Sue," Andy says, rolling her eyes at the cold open. "They were absurd, but this is fucking nuts."

"Paul Hollywood is so punchable," Joe says, smirking at Nicky.

"Hold your tongue, beloved."

"I realize I'm the one who still eats like a college student, but doesn't putting all that heavy shit into your bread make it sink?" Nile asks, frowning as the bakers chop more and more ingredients.

"It is going to be a bloodbath," Andy says with a grin.

Nicky rolls his eyes. "What she means is yes, it will make it sink."

"Lottie is my favorite," Nile says as Lottie bitches about sweet soda bread.

Quynh laughs. "She's pretty and snarky. You like them pretty and snarky."

"I am very bisexual," Nile agrees.

"Peter is fucking adorable," Quynh says. "He's like a wood nymph."

"Should I be jealous?" Andy asks.

Quynh kisses her, smiling. "I'm a lesbian, my love, and I'm all yours."

"I'm a fan of anyone who shit talks Paul Hollywood, even on accident," Joe says. "I'm worried about the gluten-free aspect though."

"It is always a risk," Nicky agrees.

Joe's concern proves itself later as Paul and Prue judge Peter's loaf.

"I told you gluten-free was a problem," Joe says. "It's never the right choice outside of a specific challenge."

Nile perks up when the technical challenge is announced. "Oh cool, rainbow bagels. I've seen them all over Instagram."

"I will have to make you a batch," Nicky says. "I'll test out some recipes."

"You rock," Nile says, blowing him a kiss. "I love having a friend who will make me gay bagels."

"For you, _tesoro_ , I will make the gayest bagels the world has ever seen. It will work very well with my general brand, as well."

"Do them for one of your pride videos this year," Andy suggests. "Along with your usual challenges."

"Focus, people. Work on branding later," Quynh admonishes.

Nile grabs another macaron. When she looks over at Booker, the soft smile on his face hits different. He looks so fucking happy to be watching his family acting the fool.

"What?" Booker asks quietly when he finally realizes Nile is looking at him.

"Nothing. You seem really happy, is all."

"I missed them," Booker says simply. "I miss this when I travel."

"Look, the grouch has a heart after all," Nile teases. Nile bumps his shoulder with hers. When he doesn't push her back, she stays there, arm pressed to his, cozy and warm for the rest of the evening.

They make it through two episodes before Joe calls it.

"Nicolo, my love, we will continue these when you have relaxed," Joe says firmly. "You are too wound up."

It starts a round of hugs that takes ages to get through, everyone giggly and sleepy and wound on sugar and friendly competition. Nile is glad she didn't agree to any bets.

"I really ought to go," Nile says, hugging a sugar-high Andy one more time.

"I'll walk you out," Booker says.

"Yeah you will," Quynh teases. She deftly catches the cream-puff Booker tosses at her.

Booker walks Nile upstairs and holds her jacket as she slides her arms in.

"Thank you." Nile hugs him quickly. "Text me when you get home, yeah?"

"I will if you will," Booker says.

"Always do." Nile checks her pockets for her keys and wallet. "I'm gonna head out. Good night, Booker."

"Good night, Nile."

…

Nile (10:18) I'm home

Booker (10:32) Me too. Thank you for letting me know

Nile (10:33) I'm glad no one stole you, even if they'd give you back

Booker (10:35) That is very rude. I am a delight

Nile (10:41) Yes, you are very delightful.

Nile (11:33) We still on for ratatouille on Sunday? I'm excited to learn!

Booker (11:34) We are. Andy and Quynh have a workshop all day, so we'll have the apartment to ourselves with no one to steal the veggies

Nile (11:36) Andy only steals sweets

Booker (11:38) But Quynh is a greedy vegetarian

Nile (11:41) True

Nile (11:42) I am very tired

Booker (11:45) Go to sleep, then

Nile (11:47) this is why you're the brains of this outfit

Nile (11:50) Good night, Booker

Booker (11:52) Good night, Nile

...

Sunday, April 4th

...

Booker is trying to teach Nile how to make ratatouille.

"Nile, I promise you can handle this. Just cut the eggplant."

"This feels threatening," Nile says, holding the knife to the peeled eggplant. "I feel like I'm going to slice my hand."

It could be going better, but it also could be going worse.

"You're just being purposefully obtuse, smart-ass. I know you've held a knife before. Try and act like it." Booker adjusts her grip on the knife, filling her senses with Bleu de Chanel, and steps back. "Go ahead."

Nile is used to chopping things to make them smaller, not to make them a certain uniform size. Somehow, she manages to cut the eggplant into one-inch pieces without sacrificing too much of the vegetable or slicing her hand.

"Good." Booker hands her a zucchini. "Quarter-inch rounds."

"Ooh, imperial measurements," Nile teases as she starts to slice.

Booker rolls his eyes. "I converted them for you."

"I'm honored."

They get all the ingredients prepared, and Nile starts to sink into the peace of cooking. There's something beautiful about the care Booker takes with the recipe, his mother's recipe.

"You have to make sure to salt and drain the eggplant, or the texture is wrong," Booker says with the air of one speaking from experience.

"Don't skip salting and draining, got it." Nile makes a note on her phone. "Okay, everything is ready, we dried the eggplant, and I made a note about the draining. What's next?"

"We start to cook." Booker turns the heat on under a Dutch oven on the stove and adds two tablespoons of olive oil.

"This is way less dramatic than the movie," Nile says.

"You mean the one with the quote 'rat who steers the useless twink by the hair'? I've never seen it."

Nile gasps. "That is a tragedy. You're the French one!"

"Half-French," Booker points out. “French on my mother’s side.”

"The raised-in-France one!" Nile corrects, rolling her eyes. "That's settled. We're totally watching _Ratatouille_ while we eat ratatouille."

Booker heaves a long-suffering sigh, and Nile giggles.

"Just add the eggplant, Nile."

"Yes, chef," Nile says, carefully adding the eggplant to the hot-but-not-smoking oil like the recipe says.

She stirs the eggplant often, watching it slowly build color until it's golden. At some point, the oil has been absorbed, and Booker leans over her slightly to add more.

"There. Give it another minute or so, then we'll move on to zucchini."

Once the zucchini is golden - "but not soft" - Nile adds it to the bowl with the eggplant and Booker hands her a bowl of cherry tomatoes.

"What do I do with these?"

"Crush them," Booker says, a twinkle in his eye. "With your hands."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. It improves the texture." Booker looks at her expectantly.

Nile takes the bowl with a huff. "Fine."

Crushing tomatoes by hand is both a satisfying and terrible feeling all at once. Booker is enjoying Nile's confusion far too much, in her opinion.

The aromatics, herbs, spices, and various other frivolity take roughly a century to cook down, so they end up talking while Nile stirs.

"My father moved to France for work," Booker explains quietly, arms crossed as he leans against the counter. "He was opening a new branch of the company. He met my mother, and they were married within the year. I was born six months later."

Booker smiles ruefully, and Nile is struck with the urge to hug him. She can't. She has to keep stirring.

Nile settles for swapping the wooden spoon to her other hand and squeezing his arm. He rests his hand on hers for the briefest moment.

"Careful not to let it stick," Booker says. Nile switches back to her dominant hand. "Anyway, their marriage was... complicated."

"That tends to run in the family," Nile says softly.

"So does alcoholism," Booker says, the first time he's said the word in Nile's presence. "Most of my happy childhood memories are cooking with my mother."

"I'm glad you have them," Nile says. "Some good memories are better than none."

"True." Booker stares off into space, until Nile pokes his arm. "Hm?"

"The bell pepper is soft, like you said. Tomatoes next?"

"Tomatoes next."

Nile stirs in the crushed tomatoes, trying not to splash the liquid everywhere. The salt really did its job while the onion was cooking.

"Do you want to see pictures of Kennedy?" Nile asks, determined to keep Booker out of the melancholy headspace he keeps slipping into. "Junior sent me new ones."

"I'd love to. She's what, five now? Her birthday was in March."

Nile grins. "You remembered! And yes, my girl is five. She'll be going to full-day kindergarten, and I can't quite believe it. I feel old."

Nile washes her hands to fish her phone out of her pocket and pull up the latest pictures of Kennedy. She could talk about her niece forever, and she absolutely will if that's what it takes to keep the haunted look out of Booker's eyes.

Finally, it comes time to add everything else they've prepared or set aside and set it to low.

"We've got about ten minutes," Booker says. "Maybe longer, on this stove."

"Plenty of time to do some of the dishes we've built up. I'll wash, you dry?"

"You just don't want to figure out where shit goes in Quynh's kitchen," Booker says, grabbing the dish towel. “She scares you, doesn’t she?”

"You caught me. Dry a damn dish."

Later, curled up on the couch with a bowl of stew in hand, Nile gets to watch Booker watch _Ratatouille_ for the first time.

"This is really good," Nile says between bites, leaning on Booker's shoulder. "I'm understanding what all the fuss is about.”

"I'm glad you like it," Booker says, smiling over at her. "I'm glad I've found a way to get you to eat vegetables, as well."

"A sneaky ploy, but I'll allow it."

Later still, as the food critic flashes back to his childhood and Booker definitely doesn't hide his tears in his sleeve, Nile thinks 'this is what happiness feels like' and curls up closer to Booker on the couch.

…

Monday, March 12th

…

_Julio (@treeofsouls) 1hr_

I realize I'm newish to the #oldsquadfandom, but did anyone else notice the weird vibe on stream tonight? Nile and Booker felt super awkward. Did I miss something?

_Melissa (@joeheartsnicky) 1hr_

(Replying to @treeofsouls) Booker is leaving for his spring Europe trip in the morning. I think they were being weird about that

_Hannah (@yusolo69) 50m_

(Replying to @treeofsouls, @joeheartsnicky) It's understandable. This will be his longest trip since Nile joined TOS/BLP.

_Julio (@treeofsouls) 45m_

I can understand that, @yusolo69. The others are probably used to it by now

...

Tuesday, April 13th

…

Nile walks up the stairs to Andy and Quynh's apartment like she's walking to her own funeral.

It's ridiculous. Booker is a travel blogger. He works for National Geographic and pays his bills with landscape photography. Of course he's going to leave for more than a week or two sometimes. Nile knew this was coming.

But six fucking weeks? It feels like the rug is being ripped out from under her.

Andy lets Nile in, and Nile walks toward Booker's room - well, the guest room.

Gus is yowling angrily from the top of Booker's suitcase, hissing whenever Booker walks by him. Nile knows the feeling.

"Hey."

"Hey. You came." Booker stops in his tracks, his face lighting up with a smile.

"I wanted to see you one more time before you left." Nile holds out a canvas grocery bag. "And bring you this."

"Nile, you didn't have to -"

"Shut up and take the bag, Book." Nile perches on the desk so she's out of the way.

Booker puts the bag on the end of the bed, away from Gus' reach. He pulls out the contents carefully.

"Let's see…" He holds up a black 'Nile Freeman' branded hoodie with the logo in bi-pride colors. "Nile, it's perfect."

"You're getting one of the first ones. They just went onto the shop today."

"I love it, thank you." Booker pulls it on, and Nile can't help her laugh. "How does it look?"

"It looks great, but it doesn't go with your cargo pants."

"Quynh says nothing goes with cargo pants," Booker counters, pulling the hoodie off and rearranging Gus long enough to pack it. "There's more?"

"In the bottom of the bag, genius. Use your context clues, baby."

The rest of her care package includes some snacks for the plane, a book they've been talking about reading, and a small photo album.

"I know it's old-school, but Mom always printed pictures for us when we went to visit family without her, or when she went on work trips," Nile says as he flips through them. "I printed some pics of the squad for you to take with you that don't require electricity."

Booker hugs her almost before she realizes he moved, those broad arms engulfing her in warmth. Nile hugs him back, sliding off the desk and somehow landing on her feet.

"Thank you, Nile," Booker says when they finally part.

"You're welcome." Nile wipes her eyes. "I should probably head out soon. I'm supposed to finish a commission today and I'm behind schedule. I just… wanted to see you before you left."

"Thank you. For everything." Booker looks like he wants to hug her again, but he stops himself. "Six weeks."

"Six weeks." Nile holds out her pinky. "Pinky swear?"

Booker hooks her finger with his own, and they touch thumbs.

"Pinky swear."

...

Friday, May 7th

...

Nile is struggling.

"You should FaceTime him," Dizzy suggests, taking Nile's third Bang of the day and replacing it with water. "You haven't called him in a week."

"I don't want to get in the way of his work," Nile says, hunched over her tablet.

Dizzy digs her fingers into Nile's neck and shoulders until Nile is forced to relax some.

"Nile, he'd make space for you. You know he would."

"He shouldn't have to. He's working."

"Nile." Dizzy sounds tired. "You make space for him."

"That's different."

"It really isn't." Dizzy grabs her Dr. Pepper as well, before Nile can drink more of it. "Drink some goddamn water. Your pulse is too fast to be healthy. You won't see Booker when he gets back if you die of caffeine overdose."

Dizzy is right. Nile needs to drink more water.

She's still sitting hunched over her Wacom when Jay gets home from work at four.

"When's the last time you stretched?"

Nile shrugs.

"Nile."

"Like... eleven?"

"You need to work on something else. Or go see Joe and Nicky, something."

"Joe and Nicky are working today."

Jay sighs and leaves Nile's room.

Nile's phone buzzes not five minutes later.

Andy (4:15) A little bird told me you need a break. Come over to the apartment, I'm done with classes for the day

Nile (4:17) I'm not done with this commission

Andy (4:18) That wasn't a request

Which means Nile is on the landing of the apartment at five o'clock, bag packed for a sleepover.

"I can't believe Jay sold me out," Nile says when Andy opens the door.

"You have good friends who love you," Andy says. "Remind me to get you a key. Come on."

They're prepared, pizzas and cheese bread on the coffee table, cuddly blankets piled on the couch, and a reusable water bottle ready in Nile's spot.

"You need to rest," Quynh says firmly. She takes Nile's bag and steers her toward the couch. "You need to eat something you didn't microwave and drink more water and fucking breathe, kid."

They're right. Of course, they're right.

"You guys aren't my moms," Nile says, only pretending to protest.

"Yes, we are," Andy counters. "We've adopted you. We share custody with Tanya. She signed the paperwork and everything."

Nile starts crying, tension that's been building for months, probably, all bursting forth at once. Andy and Quynh bracket her on the couch, holding her tightly until her sobbing calms some.

"Do you want to talk about it, honey?" Quynh asks.

"Who do I need to kill?" Andy asks, which is just as genuine, if less helpful.

"There's no one to kill," Nile says, wiping her eyes with her hoodie sleeves. "I've been saying yes to too many projects, and the next anthology of _Clay and Violets_ releases in two weeks, so I've been working on promo, and I'm still streaming five to six times a week, and I'm just really tired."

Andy sits back to grab Nile's water and hands it to her.

"And I miss Booker," Nile finally admits. "I didn't realize how much we talked until he left."

"The spring trip is hard," Andy agrees. "Drink your water."

Nile drinks her water, thirsty from the crying and relieved that the knot in her chest has finally unraveled.

"You need to take a break," Quynh says. "Just because we're content creators doesn't mean we have to be working all the time. Work-life balance is important."

"I know."

Andy wraps her arm around Nile's shoulder and gently tugs her over. Nile rests her head on Andy's chest and just... breathes.

Quynh puts on something mindless, a sitcom they've all seen a dozen times, and Nile rests for the first time in weeks. She's about to fall asleep when her phone lights up with notifications.

Dizzy (7:03) I don't want to interrupt your rest, but I also don't want you to be blindsided

Dizzy (7:03) [screenshot]

Nile's heart basically stops when the file loads.

It's an Instagram post from a vaguely familiar model, one of the girls in Gita's circle. The photo is of a crowd of people drinking and dancing, and there, front and center, is Gita - with Booker's arm around her waist.

He looks wasted, the bags under his eyes dark and angry, his gaze bleary. All Nile can see is his arm around Gita's waist.

"What is it, kid?" Andy looks down at Nile's phone. "Oh, Book..."

Quynh leans over to look and promptly pulls it up on her own phone.

"That's your ex, isn't it?"

Nile nods, scrubbing her palms over fresh tears. Gita is just as beautiful as ever, and it tugs at the scar in her heart.

"He's just drunk," Andy says, rubbing her back. "He probably doesn't realize."

"She definitely does," Nile says, breath shaky. "She can be petty, when she wants to be."

Quynh gets up and returns with the water pitcher to top off Nile's bottle.

"Water can't fix everything," Nile argues.

"No, but it will help." Quynh sits on the end of the couch, and Andy gently passes Nile over to her. "What's running through your head right now?"

Nile doesn't have the emotional energy for artifice.

"Why did they end up in the same place? Why would he let them take pictures and post them? Why would she make a point of documenting the fact they're there?" Nile sips her water. "Why am I so fucking mad and sad at the same time?"

"It sounds like maybe you're jealous," Quynh says gently.

"Over Gita?" Nile asks, incredulous.

"Booker," Andy says, and everything starts slotting together.

The way she feels when she hugs him, the soft smiles he gives when he thinks she can't see, the gentle way he helps her talk though her problems, snowmen and falafel and late-night calls and hours on stream and fry hunt and movie night and ratatouille and -

Oh.

_Oh._

"I'm in love with him."

Andy covers her smile with her hand, and Quynh giggles.

"That... explains a lot, actually." Nile rubs her eyes. "Was anybody going to tell me I'm in love with Booker, or was I just supposed to figure it out myself?"

"You got there eventually," Andy says, finally letting out her laugh. "You're fucking cute, kid."

"I don't know what to do with this information," Nile says, already stressing.

"You don't have to do anything with it tonight,” Quynh reassures her. “You just need to rest. Eat some pizza, honey.”

Nile eats her pizza, trying not to get lost in the whirlwind of her thoughts. So many memories look different in this new light.

Does Booker love her too?

Scratch that, she knows he has love for her, in that deep, kindred-spirits way. Is he in love with her? Is there any potential there?

Something hits her.

"He travels a lot," she says, apropos of nothing.

Quynh pauses _Parks and Rec_.

"He's a travel blogger," Andy points out gently. "Why do you say it like that?"

Nile sighs. "Can I lay my head in your lap? I'm too tired to be both upright and emotionally vulnerable."

They rearrange so Nile's head is in Andy's lap and her feet are in Quynh's, wrapped up in blankets in the middle. A recalcitrant Gus crawls out from under the recliner to plop himself on Nile’s lap.

"Gita and I met at a party when I was in college. I was an art major, she was already a model, and it was a match made in heaven." Nile picks at her sleeves. "We were in love. She had an apartment with friends, so I moved in with Jay and Dizzy when I graduated. We dated for two years like that, when her career started to take off."

"She started to travel more," Quynh says, connecting the dots.

"Bingo. She started to travel more. And at first, it was fine. It was 2018-2019, the internet exists. But then, when I started making noise about sharing an apartment..." Nile shakes her head. "All of a sudden, I was 'pushing too much' and 'moving too fast.' We had been together for almost three years, and I was moving too fast."

Quynh squeezes her ankle, and it grounds Nile in the moment.

"I wanted to put down roots, and she didn't. I would have been happy for her to keep traveling, as long as she came home to me. In the end, we just couldn't make it work. It got petty and mean. I still loved her, but she couldn't be bothered having an anchor anymore."

"Oh, Nile..." Andy sounds sad. Nile doesn't make eye contact. "Now I see why you said it like that."

"Booker isn't Gita," Quynh says firmly.

"I know." Nile sighs. "Pick a movie I have to think about. I need a distraction to try and stop overthinking this."

"That can be arranged."

Later, curled up between them in their California King, Gus creeps in and falls asleep on Nile's throat. Nile scratches him, and he purrs in his sleep.

"I know, bud. I miss him too."

...

Sunday, May 9th

...

[Instagram Photo ID: A tall white man in a black hoodie and jeans is standing in front of the Trevi fountain (Rome), smiling. The hoodie has a "Nile Freeman" logo on it in pink, purple, and blue.]

**Bookerlelivre: Sometimes even the most seasoned travelers need to do tourist things, and tossing a coin here is tradition. I've only got two days in Rome this trip, but I'll be back.**

**theoldsquadgoals:** okay yall know I'm not one for this, but... he's wearing her merch and that's adorable

 **yusolo69:** @theoldsquadgoals one of us one of us one of us

 **nilefreemanstan:** I just got my bi pride hoodie in the mail, so I can be twins with Booker, amazing (now which one of us loves her more?)

 **joeheartsnicky:** I'm dying. I'm dead. I'm dying, this is so goddamn cute

 **thesoultree:** okay now I definitely want one of those hoodies.

 **theoldsquadgoals:** how is it even legal to be this handsome?

 **yusolo69:** Mr. Le livre, I'm simping

...

Tuesday, May 26th

...

Booker calls, and Nile answers eagerly.

"Hey! You landed safely? How does it feel to be back in the states?"

"It feels good," Booker says. He sounds exhausted. "I am very tired."

"Jet lag is gonna suck, but I'm sure your old hat at that by now." Nile pulls her feet up into her chair, grinning so hard it hurts.

"It still sucks." She can hear the smile in his voice. "What are you doing right now?"

"I'm working on the next update for _Clay and Violets_ , why?"

"I'm on your doorstep, and my hands are full, so I can't knock."

Nile rushes out to the hall, nearly bowling poor Dizzy over in her rush to open the door. She flings open the door, nearly knocking the coat rack off the wall.

Sure enough, Booker is standing on the welcome mat, wearing a denim shirt and one of his ridiculous hats, and Nile is so happy to see him she could cry.

"Hey," Booker says with a smile.

"Hey." Nile tugs him inside and takes his bags so she can hug him. "God, I missed you."

Sinking into Booker's embrace is like coming home.

"I missed you, too." Booker kisses the top of her head. "It's good to be back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ratatouille recipe I based Booker's off of can be found from Tasting Table [here.](https://www.tastingtable.com/cook/recipes/how-to-make-ratatouille-french-ratatouille-recipe-eggplant-ratatouille-recipe)


	8. The Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Booker and Nile re-learn how to be friends, timing goes horribly wrong, and Merrick releases a video.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Booker's alcoholism is bad in this one, friends. Be safe. Message me if you need details. Also this is the longest chapter to date, and it's a lot.

Tuesday, May 25th

…

Mrs. Canetti from apartment 6C lets Booker into the building, holding the door for him with a big smile.

"It's good to see you, Booker! Nile said you were on your big trip." She hits the elevator button for him. "I see you came straight here."

"I missed her," Booker says simply.

Mrs. Canetti just smiles knowingly. "Tell Nile I said hi, dear."

Booker asks Siri to call Nile as he walks down the hall. Nile answers on the second ring.

"Hey! You landed safely?" She sounds so fucking happy. Booker is going to melt. "How does it feel to be back in the states?"

"It feels good," Booker says. He pauses to catch his breath. "I am very tired."

"Jet lag is gonna suck, but I'm sure you're old hat at that by now."

"It still sucks." Booker finally gets to their apartment, the familiar 'hi bitch' welcome mat beneath his feet. "What are you doing right now?"

"I'm working on the next update for _Clay and Violets_ , why?"

"I'm on your doorstep, and my hands are full, so I can't knock."

The call ends abruptly, and Booker hears a commotion coming from inside the apartment. Nile wrenches the door open and it bounces off the wall.

"Hey," Booker says, aiming for nonchalance and missing horribly.

"Hey." Nile bundles him inside, taking his stuff and putting it on the floor in the entryway. She wraps her arms around his waist the moment his hands are free. "God, I missed you."

Booker hugs her tight, soaking in the contact after six long weeks away from the woman he loves.

"I missed you, too." Booker kisses the top of her head. "It's good to be back.”

"Get used to this," Nile says, muffled by his chest. "You owe me six weeks of back-taxes on hugs and affection."

"I think I can handle that," Booker says. He's proud of himself for how stable he sounds as he loses his mind. "I'd like to make it further than three feet through the door, though. If that's possible."

"Fuck, of course. Come in." Nile pauses. "Shoes."

Booker takes his boots off and slides on his ridiculous angry-emoji slippers (his Christmas present). Dizzy is leaning against the couch, smirking.

"Good to have you back, Booker. Our apartment has been sadly lacking of tall Frenchmen. It was disconcerting."

"I am happy to be that tall Frenchman and bring order to the universe." Booker lines his boots up with Dizzy's sneakers and Jay's Doc Martens.

"If you were gone any longer, we would have put an ad on Craigslist," Dizzy teases. She stands for a quick hug. "It's a good thing you came home on time."

"I would fight the challenger for the position," Booker swears, holding up his fists dramatically. "Luckily, I'm back, so it will not come to this."

"Leave him alone, Diz," Nile says as she ushers Booker down the hall to her room. "He's tired and jet-lagged, and you are a lot to handle."

Protective Nile makes his heart ache. (Every version of Nile makes his heart ache. It's his default state these days.)

Jay waves from her desk as they pass her door, and Booker waves back.

"You look exhausted, baby." Nile slides the curtains around her bed open and pushes him to sit. "Sit down, I'll bring some water and food. When's the last time you ate?"

"I ate dinner on the plane. I have no idea what time that was."

Nile comes back with a sandwich, fruit, and the biggest water bottle in the apartment.

"Drink. I know you haven't been drinking enough water," Nile says firmly.

There's something intoxicating about going from six weeks travelling alone to coddled by Nile in the full force of her worry. Booker sips his water obediently, but he can't keep his stupid-fond smile down.

"You good?" Nile asks, tilting her head slightly.

"I'm just happy to be home, is all."

An hour and a half later, Booker finds himself on stream. The chat is thrilled, and they spam the little shocked Chibi Booker emotes.

"You are too kind," Booker says, leaning his arm on Nile's chair to look at the chat more closely. "I cannot believe you missed me that much, CosmicPumpkin, but thank you."

Someone calls him daddy, and Booker can feel his blush rising.

"Y'all, knock it off! You'll scare him away, and he just got back." Nile waves her pen at the camera. "Cut it out."

Someone pays for a text-to-speech chat.

"But he's so cute when he blushes," the computer reads out, and Booker blushes even harder. He hides his face against the back of Nile's chair, and she pats his arm.

"I'm sorry they're harassing you, baby." Nile pauses. "They're right, though. You are cute when you blush."

A record scratches in Booker's brain. Did... did Nile just flirt with him?

No, impossible. She's just teasing him for the audience. That's all

"If you all are going to be mean to me, I can go," Booker says as he stands and slowly walks toward the door.

Laughing, Nile grabs his hand and pulls him back into frame.

"Absolutely not. You don't get to disappear for six weeks then bail twenty minutes in. You've only been home for like two hours, please stay."

Booker stays. As if he was ever capable of telling her no.

...

Friday, June 4th

...

Booker isn't sure when they started this FaceTime call, but it's late now.

It's late, Nile is in her feelings, and Booker is finally getting the whole story about Gita Essaidi.

"...and it got petty, in the end. She would post pictures of her dancing with other women, and she talked about how much she enjoyed being out of the city." Nile sniffles, and Booker wishes they were in the same room so he could hug her. "I finally had the dignity to break up with her officially when she admitted to cheating on me."

"I didn't know who she was," Booker says for the dozenth time tonight. "I didn't realize what was happening. Nile, I'm so sorry that I put her on your radar again."

"I know you didn't mean to." Nile rubs her eyes, the video wobbling as she shifts to lie on her side in bed. "I know you didn't realize. It still hurt, you know? She knew a picture with you would make me jealous."

"I have no interest," Booker points out. "I didn't even remember her until Joe sent me the screenshot."

"That's not what I meant, Book. I mean that she likes getting her hands on people who matter to me."

"You were jealous... because she was touching me on Instagram?" It doesn't add up. Booker is just drunk enough to not put two and two together. "But you know that I come home to you."

"Yeah, Book," Nile says, and it's so fucking soft Booker is going to die. "I know. It's the principle of the thing."

Wait...

"I matter to you?"

"Of course you do, asshole. Don't fish for compliments, it isn't cute."

"I'm not fishing. I'm just insecure." Okay, that was more truthful than Booker intended.

"Then I'll just have to remind you," Nile says gently. "Remind you how much you matter to me."

Booker might not survive that, but he can't bring himself to say no.

"Promise?" He whispers, like someone could overhear.

"Promise."

Then, for the first time in their friendship, Booker is the one to extend his pinky first. He holds it out to his phone camera.

"Pinky swear?"

Giggling, Nile does the same.

"Pinky swear."

...

Sunday, June 14th

...

"I'm going to go read on the roof," Booker announces at the door to the living area.

Andy and Quynh look up from their computers, and Quynh bursts out laughing.

"Honey, those shorts."

"What?" Booker looks down at himself. "They're just shorts."

"Tiny khaki shorts and a mostly-unbuttoned denim shirt?" Quynh asks. "You look like a whore who works only on yachts."

"A well-paid whore," Andy adds. "Very high-society."

"I need better friends," Booker grumbles. "It's hot, and I'm comfortable."

"Go read your damn book, Booker," Andy says, waving him away. "Enjoy your weird tan lines."

Booker walks up the roof access stairs and settles in one of the lounge chairs Quynh bought last summer. It's comfortable, and there's a breeze, and Booker fully intends to finish his book today.

He's also so tired that he's asleep within ten minutes, the book slipping from his hand to the rooftop. 

Booker wakes to Nile calling his name as she exits the stairwell.

"Booker? Booker, Andy said you've been up here almost two hours. You must be sunburnt by n-" She cuts herself off.

When did Booker roll onto his stomach? Booker grumbles as he rolls back over, readjusting his sunglasses in the process.

"What were you saying?" Booker asks.

He'd say something else, but his thoughts shudder to a halt when he realizes Nile is wearing a sundress. The blue and white floral fabric hugs her every curve, and miles of skin is visible both above and below the dress. The sun glints off of her gold jewelry and makes her skin glow, and Booker is too in love for this shit.

If Booker didn't know better, he'd say Nile was staring at him with lust in her eyes. It's just wishful thinking. The rooftop is too bright to see her face clearly at this angle.

"What were you saying?" Booker asks again, once he's over the shock of Nile in that dress.

(He knew she was beautiful, but a summer of over-sized t-shirts and Nike shorts did not prepare him for skintight blue.)

Nile shakes her head, waking up from whatever daze she slipped into.

"Andy said it's been two hours, so you need to come inside and cool off, drink some water."

Booker's skin feels warm, but he's not sure if it's sunburn.

"Okay. I'll be down in a minute."

"Cool." Nile turns to go, stops at the door to the stairwell, and turns back. "You look really hot in that outfit, Booker. It's a good look for you."

She's gone by the time Booker processes her comment.

Nile is just teasing, that's all. Even if it's more than that, it would only be physical, and Booker couldn't survive having her so close but so far.

Booker is the worst possible choice for a romantic partner - not just in general, but for Nile specifically. He's old, and jaded, and broken. He has an alcohol problem, and trust issues, and his heart is too broken and bruised to offer someone as perfect as Nile.

Besides, Nile has already dated someone who travels. Why would she say yes to him?

With that tiny inkling of hope properly crushed, Booker grabs his book and jogs back down the stairs.

Booker is lucky just to be in her life, so he'll be the best friend she could ever want.

Death by a thousand cuts is preferable to ever hurting her.

...

Friday, June 25th

...

"So you're saying there's no way to get me back to New York tonight?" Booker wonders if he sounds as worn-out as he looks.

The customer service clerk grimaces, clicking at her computer again.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. le Livre. Your flight was canceled because of technical issues, as I said, and all the other flights to New York tonight are overbooked." She prints something out. "I've booked you for the ten o'clock flight tomorrow, and I've already reserved a room for you at the Hilton across the street."

Booker takes several deep breaths. He doesn't know if he wants to laugh, cry, or scream. None of that is fair to the poor clerk, so he just takes the papers she hands him, grabs his bag, and heads to duty-free to buy a bottle of vodka on his way to the hotel.

He should never have accepted a job this close to his mother's death day.

Booker checks in without yelling at the receptionist and makes it as far as the threshold of his room before he pops the top off of the bottle.

Honestly, making it this far is impressive enough.

Booker calls Andy.

"Aren't you supposed to be on a plane right now?"

"Flight canceled." Booker drinks straight from the bottle, enjoying the burn. "Stuck until tomorrow at ten because all the flights tonight are overbooked. Hotel near Sea-Tac."

"Oh, Booker, baby, I'm so sorry." Andy sounds devastated. "It's tonight, isn't it?"

Of course it is. She knows the date as well as he does, ever since she picked him up from that bar when he was twenty-two and Andrew wouldn't pick up the phone.

He had interviewed her for the college paper, and she gave him her number. She was the contact closest to Andrew's, and she barely knew him, but she came and got him.

Booker doesn't deserve such good friends.

"I'm locked in my room," Booker says. He slides down the wall, clutching the bottle like a lifeline. "Andy."

"I'd come get you if I could, Sébastien. I can stay on the line as long as you want. As long as you need me."

"Just stay for a little while. I'll be fine, I promise. I just... don't hang up."

"Never."

Andy stays on the line while Booker strips down to his tank-top and underwear and crawls into bed, already done with the day at 8pm. The vodka level is lowering steadily, and so are his whirring thoughts.

"What are you drinking, Book?"

"Vodka. Duty-free."

"So a big bottle, okay. Promise me you're not going anywhere outside your room tonight?"

"I promise." Booker is struck by the urge to pinky swear, and his giggle is strangled and wrong. That's a Nile thing, not an Andy thing. "I promise."

"Good."

Andy stays on the phone until he falls asleep, bottle still clutched to his chest.

...

_Booker is back in the hospital. Antiseptic and suffering fill his senses as he stands in the doorway to Maman's room. His teenage self is asleep in the chair beside the bed, her hand on his head._

_"No!" Booker knows what comes next._

_Maman wakes herself coughing, waking his younger self. Young Booker hits the call button as the coughing doesn't stop, holding her hand tightly._

_It's worse when she stops coughing, slumping to the bed as the cancer steals her life from him. The nurses rush in as Maman lets go of Booker's hand, gently pushing him aside as they go through the Code Blue protocol, but they're too late._

_Booker watches himself slide down the wall as his legs give out, screaming for the doctors to wake her, crying like a child for his maman._

...

Booker wakes screaming. He sits upright in bed, sweaty and clammy.

The vodka bottle is to his lips as soon as he can breathe again.

He doesn't want to sleep, doesn't want to dream, doesn't want to hear the way his mother struggled in her final moments.

She didn't want to go. She wanted to stay, to see him grow up, but the universe stole her.

Booker squints at his bottle, and the words swim in front of his eyes.

He should call someone. He should call someone, talk to them about his feelings, reach out.

Booker fumbles for his phone, opens Instagram on accident.

He could... he could go live. He wouldn't have to wake someone up in order to not be alone.

It takes just two clicks to go live.

...

**Bookerlelivre is live on Instagram.**

Booker is sideways and blurry until he gets settled.

"This is a bad idea. Oh, look how many people are awake. Hi people." He scrubs a hand over his face. "I'm very drunk so I should not be on live, but I don't want to wake anyone up or be alone, so here I am."

He's slurring his words, reaction time just a little too slow.

Booker squints at the screen.

"Why are you spamming the chat? Have I... have I seen Joe's video with Nicky being drunk and cute? Why do you care?"

Booker takes a long pull from his bottle, the video shaking.

"I've seen it. Yeah, it's really cute to see Nicky tipsy like that." He laughs, bitter and harsh and hurt. "I was surprised to see him that drunk, considering Joe turned me down for having a drinking problem."

The comments go crazy.

"Didn't know that, did you?" The video goes blurry as Booker lies back against the pillows, finally focusing on his face again. "Yeah. I shot my shot with Joe back after my engagement broke off. I was 'not in a good place' and 'too dependent on alcohol' for him."

Booker snorts, his smile fading.

"I was too haram, I guess. But when Nicky gets drunk, it's cute. Sure."

The comments are going crazy, and Booker frowns.

"What? No, that's... that's not what I'm saying. I'm happy for them. I've been over it for an decade now." He scrubs a hand over his face. "This was a mistake. No, I'm not going to tell you what happened. I should... I need to go to sleep."

The angle goes sideways.

"I should have just called Nile," Booker says, staring blearily at the screen. "Where the fuck is the end button? There it -"

**This livestream has ended.**

...

Hannah (@Yusolo69) 20m

I cannot fucking believe Booker would talk shit about Nicky having an alcohol problem in the middle of a drunken livestream, the fucking nerve

Melissa (@joeheartsnicky) 19m

(Replying to @Yusolo69) I know, right? Is he saying Joe and Nicky should get divorced or something? Is he still jealous? How can he say he's their friend and pull this shit? Unsubbed.

Melissa (@joeheartsnicky) 18m

I can't support anyone who would betray their friends like this.

Nadia (@nilefreemanstan) 17m

That's not what he said at all, guys, come on. He was just in his feelings and feeling morose that's all. We know he struggles with this

Nadia (@nilefreemanstan) 16m

His phone is off. I'm worried

Hannah (@Yusolo69) 15m

How can you defend this, @nilefreemanstan? I know you're in Nile's corner, do you really want her being friends with someone who would do this, let alone in a relationship with him?

Darren (@theoldsquadgoals) 14m

(Replying to @Yusolo69) Leave Nile out of this. Booker obviously needs help and doesn't have it right now

Julio (@treeofsouls) 10m

Is Booker okay? Like. Really, has anyone talked to him? I didn't realize how bad this was

Julio (@treeofsouls) 9m

I dont think its that simple @yusolo69. This seems like a really complicated issue

...

Saturday, June 26th

...

"Booker le Livre has Finally Cracked" (Stephen Merrick)

Stephen Merrick, looking sleep-rumpled in his hoodie, bags under his eyes, is sitting in his office.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's officially happened. Booker le Livre has finally cracked. We've seen this coming for a while, but today's the day. Last night, just before midnight, Booker le Livre went live on Instagram while so drunk he couldn't stay coherent."

The video clip changes to the vertical view of Instagram live footage. Booker is sideways and blurry until he gets settled.

"This is a bad idea. Oh, look how many people are awake. Hi people." He scrubs a hand over his face. "I'm very drunk so I should not be on live, but I don't want to wake anyone up or be alone, so here I am."

Merrick comes back in.

"We've known for a while that Booker has an alcohol problem, based on some of his Twitter binges."

Several screenshots pop up on screen documenting Booker's low points.

"This is the first time we've seen it on video, however, and the truth came out about a few things. Someone asked Booker if he'd seen a video of Joe and Nicky from the night before."

The video changes to a screen recording of Joe's Instagram story. Nicky is lounging on the couch at Andy's, speaking earnestly in Italian with an alcoholic seltzer in his hand.

"He forgot how to speak English," Joe says behind the shot, chuckling. "He'll come back soon enough. Andy keeps egging him on. Luckily, both Andy and I are fluent."

It cuts back to Booker's live.

"I've seen it. Yeah, it's really cute to see Nicky tipsy like that." He laughs, bitter and harsh and hurt. "I was surprised to see him that drunk, considering Joe turned me down for having a drinking problem."

The shot returns to Merrick.

"All of this has caused an uproar in the Old Squad fan community, with many considering this a slight against Joe and Nicky's relationship and choosing sides. For as tiny as their fan base is, they are intensely loyal. It will be interesting to see how this affects the Bronze Labrys team moving forward."

Merrick grins.

"Now, for the bigger news. I was going to save it for next weekend, but this is the perfect time. I was able to interview Booker le Livre's ex-fiance, Andrew Keane."

The video shifts to a less-strung-out Merrick on a video call with Andrew Keane, a handsome man with light brown skin and a striking beard, grey around the edges.

"Thank you for accepting my call, Mr. Keane. Welcome to my channel."

"Thank you for having me."

"Now, Mr. Keane, you reached out to me about Booker le Livre a few weeks ago, but we've just now been able to meet up. What exactly did you want to bring to my audience's attention?"

Keane looks emotional, but it seems fake.

"I noticed that my ex-fiance's channel was growing, and I felt like something had to be done. It's so hard to see him manipulate his audience, but I wasn't sure how to tell people that he isn't the kind, tender-hearted activist he plays online."

"You've come to the right place. Start at the beginning."

"Booker had a small problem with alcohol when we started dating, but it got worse when his father disowned him when we decided to move in together," Keane says bluntly. "The alcohol problem grew, because I was the only family he had. He became very clingy and manipulative, like he was afraid I'd throw him out too."

"I can see how that would be hard for you. Why did you end up breaking up?"

"I couldn't handle his alcohol abuse anymore. It had robbed me of the man I loved, and he wouldn't get help." It sounds robotic, rehearsed. "I had to, for my own mental health."

"Thank you so much for sharing your story. I'm sure the fans will find it very enlightening.”

The footage cuts back to Merrick alone in his office.

"He paints a pretty picture for his audience, but the hard truth of the matter is that Sébastien le Livre is nothing more than an alcoholic with daddy issues who is incapable of forming a relationship that can last. And honestly he's crazy if he thinks he could ever be anything other than that."

…

**Recents**

Andy (2) 9:03  
Phone

Nile Freeman (2) 8:46  
FaceTime video

Joe al-Kaysani (3) 8:16  
Phone

Nile Freeman 8:07  
Phone

Nicky al-Kaysani 7:45  
Phone

Andy 7:15  
FaceTime video

Quynh (3) 6:50  
Phone

Nile Freeman (2) 6:26  
Phone

…

Booker wakes to the clock alarm blaring, the sun pouring in through the open blinds, and his head fucking splitting. He fumbles for his phone.

Dead.

Booker finds his bag and plugs the phone in. When it wakes, the notifications flood in. Too many, too fast.

A million missed calls. More Twitter mentions than he's ever had in his life.

That's when he sees the link to Merrick's video with his name in the title.

When he throws up in the bathroom, it isn't because of the alcohol.

"Sébastien le Livre is nothing more than an alcoholic with daddy issues who is incapable of forming a relationship that can last."

Merrick's words echo through his head, along with Andrew's vindictive smirk.

What the fuck has he done?

How the hell is he going to face them?

Somehow, Booker pulls himself together enough to check out of the hotel and get back to the airport. He turns his phone back off.

At check-in, Booker seriously considers changing his ticket to literally anywhere but New York. He's got dual citizenship and an EU passport. He could go a million places.

He still gets on the plane to New York.

The people he wants to see most in this world are the people he hurt with his actions last night, but there's not really another option. He has to see them.

...

Booker drinks on the plane. He buys another bottle of vodka and shoves it into his bag. He's back in New York, but he can't bring himself to go to the apartment.

Somehow, he finally ends up at Prospect Park, drinking on the bench Nile calls "theirs."

When he turns his phone back on, the call log is clogged with missed calls from everyone. He hits Nile's contact without second thought.

She answers by the second ring.

“Booker, baby, are you okay? Where are you?”

“I fucked up. I can’t come home, Nile.”

"You can always come home."

“Not after this."

"Stop. Booker, stop. You can always come home, no matter what. Family is family, okay?"

"My only family disowned me."

"We're your family," Nile says earnestly.

Booker starts to finally cry.

"Just tell me where you are, Book. I’ll come find you.” Booker shares his location with her. "Thank you, baby."

“You’re so good, Nile. So much better than I deserve.”

"Don't say that, Booker. You're better than you realize."

“My father was right about me.”

"The only thing your father ever got right was marrying your mother and having you," Nile says, venom in her voice. Booker knows it's not at him.

“She would be so disappointed with me. She always wanted me to be good. I’ve let her down like I’ve let everyone else down.” He lets out a broken sob.

Nile finally gets to the park and rushes to his side, shoving her phone in her pocket so she can reach for him.

"No, Booker, baby, she'd be so proud of the man you've become. Stop, shh, you're okay."

Booker is shaking, tears streaming down his cheeks. Nile holds him to her chest, and Booker drowns in the familiar scent of her body wash and detergent and Nile-ness.

"One mistake doesn't make you a bad person." She pets his hair, and Booker sobs.

"Do you want to come back to my apartment?" Nile offers softly. "You don't have to see anyone but me, you can rest and eat and process."

Booker doesn't deserve to look Nile in the eye, not after the shit he pulled last night. Not after Merrick's video. Not after everything. Nile cups his chin and forces him to meet her eyes.

"I can't," he finally manages.

"You can't stay here," Nile says firmly. "You have three options. Andy and Quynh. Joe and Nicky. Or me."

“They don’t want to see me.”

"That's not true, Booker. Anyway, does that mean we're going back to my apartment?"

She’s so gentle with him, so patient. He doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve her.

"Stop. Whatever it is that made you that sad, stop it. Come on, we're going home." Nile steps back and holds out her hands.

It’s would be so easy if it weren’t so difficult. She’s right there, reaching out for him. She’s throwing him a lifeline, he just has to take it. He stares at her hands. So soft but so strong.

Beautiful, like everything else about her.

"Sebastien."

He takes her hand, even now he can’t say no to her.

Nile holds his hand tight the entire way to the apartment, like he'll break away at any moment if she isn't careful. When they get to the apartment, she changes her boots for slippers, and he's left staring at the goddamn emoji slippers she got him for Christmas.

They had known each other less than a month when he got his own set of slippers at her apartment. She's made space for him in her life, and Booker doesn't deserve any of it.

Finally, after existential crisis #4212, Booker puts on the fucking slippers and follows her back to her room.

"Have you slept?"

"Yes."

"Have you slept _enough_?" Nile asks, hands on her hips. 

"No."

“You gotta take care of yourself, baby.”

"Why?" Booker asks before he can stop himself. "I'm not worth the effort."

Nile holds his chin again, making him keep eye contact. "You are worth being cared for, Sebastien. You are worthy."

Booker starts to cry again, but these tears are less violent. Nile gently nudges him until he has to sit on the bed or risk falling over.

She wraps her arms around him, holds him as tight as she can.

What little composure Booker has managed to gather is gone, sobs wracking his body. He ends up crying himself to sleep in her arms.

…

Sunday, June 27th

…

Booker sleeps like the dead. When he wakes, he's confused and disoriented, until he realizes he's in Nile's bed with the curtains drawn.

"Nile?" He asks, voice hoarse and mouth tasting like regret.

Nile opens the curtains partway and hands him a water bottle.

"Hey, honey. How're you feeling?"

"Groggy. Time's it?"

"Two in the afternoon. You slept for almost eighteen hours, Book." Nile sits on the edge of the bed and pushes his hair out of his eyes. "I told the family you got home safely. You need to talk to them."

"I can't face them, Nile."

"It's not a request. Either you come to family dinner with me, or they're coming here."

Coming here would feel like an invasion. Booker slumps back against the pillows and sighs.

"Fine. I'll go to dinner tonight."

"Good. In the interim, you need a shower in the worst way."

Which is how he finds himself standing at the door of the stairs to Andy and Quynh's apartment, feeling like he's walking to his execution.

Andy throws the door open before he can knock, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tight.

"Don't you dare scare me like that again," she whispers, forehead pressed to his. "I thought you had done something foolish, Book, Jesus."

"I'm sorry I scared you," Booker says, the first of many apologies.

"As long as you're okay. That's all I wanted, was to know you're okay." Andy squeezes the back of his neck. "You scare me like that again, and I'll kill you myself."

She passes him to Quynh, who hugs him just as tight. Booker looks over her shoulder at an exhausted-looking Joe and Nicky. When Quynh lets go, he doesn't know what to do with his hands.

"I'm sorry," he says, tears welling again.

Joe pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, digging his fingertips into the meat of Booker's back like he's about to dissolve.

"I didn't mean it," Booker says.

"I know, brother." Joe doesn't let go. "Tell us. Tell us when you're hurting, tell us when it gets this bad. We love you, and we want to help."

Booker is still sobbing when Nicky takes his turn, his hug less violent but no less earnest.

"I'm sorry," Booker sobs out, but Nicky just shushes him.

They settle in their usual places in the living room, with one major change. Nile holds Booker's hand tightly, squeezing when things get difficult. Booker explains what happened, how drunk he was and how lonely he was and how he didn't want to be a bother.

"And then Merrick, and Andrew... I couldn't... I couldn't face anyone," Booker admits. "It was a reminder that I've never been good enough for anyone. No one chooses me."

"We choose you, asshole," Andy says fondly, squeezing his shoulder.

He wishes it would sink in, but his brain hates him tonight.

"I think I need space to figure things out," he says, once he's worn out from apologizing and hearing them reassure him. "I might go stay with a friend in Paris. She's a counselor, she'll know who I can talk to." Then, quieter, "My thoughts make more sense in French."

Nile squeezes his hand. She’s been holding it on and off all night.

"If you go stay with Manon... is this you getting clean?" Andy asks quietly, like she doesn't dare hope it's true.

He grips Nile’s hand tighter. Nile holds on just as tight. He looks to her, but all he sees in her eyes is reassurance.

"I think so," he finally says. "I think... I think it's time."

Quynh smiles softly at him, “We’re proud of you, darling. Even just deciding is a step in the right direction.”

"We'll figure it out," Joe says. "Do you want someone to go with you? To get to Manon, at least?"

Booker wants to say Nile, but he knows it isn't the right answer. Only one of the people in this room is. The one who opened her home to the drunk journalist and his boyfriend after shit went weird, who helped him pull glass out of his wounds, who carried him through so many crises.

"Andy, will you go with me?"

Also, if he has to say goodbye to Nile in Paris, he may not be able to stay. Andy will make him get on the plane.

“I will.”

…

[ **Image ID:** A screenshot of a paragraph written on the Notes app. It reads:

To my beloved friends and supporters,

I am sorry I let you down. I'm sorry my poor life choices affected my audience so deeply. I'm sorry you had to see me at the depths of a problem that I've tried to hide from the world.

I have apologized to the people closest to me, and I am lucky that they have forgiven me.

I'm getting help. This is not going to be an easy process, but I'm blessed to be supported by my friends. I do not want to drag you through this, so I will be taking a hiatus from social media.

I love you. I'll miss you. I'll be back.

Le monde est un livre, lisez-le attentivement. Au revoir.

 **End ID** ]

**BookerleLivre: I'm sorry.**

..

Thursday, July 1st

…

"This is as far as I can go," Nile says as they approach security. She opens her arms, and Booker steps into her embrace.

"I'm going to miss you, but I'm so proud of you." Nile hugs him so tight his back pops.

Booker holds her until she lets go, unwilling to be the first. Nile steps back and squares her shoulders.

"Call me," she says sternly.

"I will," Booker says with a fond smile.

"Pinky swear?" Nile holds out her pinky expectantly.

Booker hooks their pinkies and touches his thumb to hers. "Pinky swear."

They don't have any more time. They need to go through security. Booker reluctantly releases her hand.

"I'll let you know when we land," he says. "And when I get to Manon's home."

"Be safe." Nile looks like she wants to say something more, but she doesn't.

Andy nudges Booker's elbow.

"C'mon, Book. We need to get in line."

One more hug. Booker holds Nile tight and silently promises to try and be enough. Even if it's impossible, he has to try. For her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my belovedest DragonflyDreams, without whom whole swaths of this chapter would not be the same.


	9. Interlude 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy addresses the issue, Booker makes progress, and there's a war in the Peanut Gallery.

Thursday, July 1st

...

_"The Truth About Stephen Merrick" (Andromache)_

The video starts with Andy at her desk, looking worn out.

"Quynh, baby, are we good?"

"We're good," Quynh says from off-screen.

"Okay. I don't have long because I'm going to get on a plane to Paris in three hours, but I can't put this off any longer." She squares her shoulders and stares straight into the camera. "Stephen Merrick is a jealous child of a man who wouldn't know ethical journalism if it punched him in the face the way he deserves."

"Damn, babe," Quynh says from off-camera.

"I mean it. Every word. Some of you have wondered why Merrick has it out for us, and Booker in particular. The short version is that he offered to buy Bronze Labrys Productions, and I said no." Andy looks even angrier by the second. "He asked to buy our company, we turned him down. He asked to join our company, we turned him down. Because Booker joined the partners less than a month later, Merrick has always seen him as the man who stole his spot."

“He never had a spot," Quynh points out.

"Exactly. He felt entitled to our success, and when I didn't give it to him, he decided that we were his enemies. I couldn't give less of a shit about Stephen Merrick if I wanted to. It's time for him to stop hurting my friends."

Andy scrubs a hand over her face.

"If you watch both of our channels - or, rather, any of the BLP channels and Merrick, it's time to choose. If you support his sleazy tactics, we don't need your money or support. Now, I have to go get on a plane, so I'm going to end this here. Comment, don't comment, who fucking cares? People I love are in crisis."

...

_Nadia (@nilefreemanstan) 5h_

I knew it. I fucking knew that man was a rat

_Hannah (@Yusolo69) 5h_

Aren't you tired yet? You've been defending Booker's honor for days

_Nadia (@nilefreemanstan) 5h_

It isn't my fault that people saw a cry for help as a dis to their ship, Hannah

_Nadia (@nilefreemanstan) 4h_

Booker is a good man in a dark place, and thats a hill I'm willing to die on

_Darren (@theoldsquadgoals) 4h_

I think Nadia is right, Hannah. This really isn't a ship thing right now

_Julio (@treeofsouls) 4h_

Stephen Merrick should gargle a bag of dicks. Someone should throw that man out a window

_Nadia (@nilefreemanstan) 3h_

You have the best ideas, Julio.

_Melissa (@joeheartsnicky) 3h_

You're just fighting for his honor because you're on Nile's mod squad and you want to kiss ass @nilefreemanstan

_Nadia (@nilefreemanstan) 3hr_

(Replying to @joeheartsnicky) No, I'm fighting for his honor because I'm the only one in the conversation who has spoken to him, who knows him. He isn't a fictional character, he's a person

_Nile Freeman (@nilefreeman) 20m_

(Retweeted @nilefreemanstan) No, I'm fighting for his honor because I'm the only one in the conversation who has spoken to him, who knows him. He isn't a fictional character, he's a person

...

Monday, July 5th

...

_(Group Chat: Matching Jackets)_

Booker (2:07) I realize it is still the middle of the night for you. But it is 8 am for me, so I am declaring this...

Booker (2:08) One week sober

Nile (2:10) [image ID: a moving gif of people blowing noisemakers and balloons flying everywhere]

Nile (2:10) Congrats, Book! I'm so fucking proud of you

Nile (2:11) You're doing the damn thing, and thats so exciting

Quynh (2:13) thats amazing, Booker!

Nicky (2:16) I woke to the buzzing but I am also very proud of you, Sebastien. Joe would be too but he is still asleep

Booker (2:20) Thank you, everyone

Andy (4:45) Okay, I am awake now to be happy for you, Book. Congratulations, my friend

Booker (5:00) Thanks, boss

Joe (9:13) Now that it is human being hours and not dumpster raccoon hours, great job, brother. The first steps are the hardest

...

_"Stream Highlights - Andromache - 7/22/2021" (Nile Freeman)_

The video begins on a wider-than-normal face cam on Nile's stream taking up the whole screen, chat scrolling by in the corner. Andy is sitting in the spare chair, engulfed in a gigantic BLP hoodie and looking exhausted

"Chat, give me a moment to get YouTube up to speed," Nile says. "Hi, YouTube friends, I'm here with Andromache - no last name like Madonna - also known as Andy. She had to cancel her class tonight, so I talked her into moping on stream instead of at home."

"I am a retired MMA fighter, which means sometimes my injuries act up," Andy says before the chat can ask. "And Nile is very cute when she says please with her puppy dog face, so here I am. Quynh, baby, say hi."

"Hi," Quynh says from off-camera.

"I didn't really have anything special planned for tonight, but I figured I could work on Andy's latest t-shirt design while she tells us about her story."

Nile puts the face cam in the corner and pulls up a new Illustrator canvas. She sketches as Andy talks.

"I'll start at the beginning, I suppose." Andy sprawls in the desk chair, barely keeping it upright. "I didn't have the best childhood. My mom tried to be there for me and my sisters, but sometimes you can't change fate. I moved out when I was sixteen. I ended up living with a friend who owned an MMA gym, and he started training me in exchange for my working in the office."

"Lykon is retired from the circuit, but he's still training," Quynh adds.

"I'll put his website in the show notes," Nile says. “Nadia, pop that in the chat, please.”

"Good, he'll like that. Anyway, once I finished my GED, I ate, slept, and breathed martial arts. Living with Lykon, I got to see the business side as well. He's actually the one who gave me my new name - it's from Greek Mythology, and it means 'fighter of men.'"

"She took on men who thought she'd be weak because she's a woman," Quynh says. "Obviously, they were wrong."

"I decided to change my name legally, because my birth name no longer felt like it fit. I took Quynh's last name when we got married, but I only use Andromache professionally."

"I love that so much. Names are always so important, and it's interesting to see how sometimes they need to change when we change."

"So, it was as Andromache that I started fighting competitively. I was good-"

"You were a champion," Quynh butts in, and Andy's smile is soft.

"Yes. I won, and I kept winning for years. Sure, I lost some, but my record was solid." Andy brings a foot up into the chair, holding her leg. "I started to get worn out. It isn't a career you want forever, not at the level I was competing. And then, I had that last injury that ended my competitive career."

"It made her a bitch for weeks too, since she couldn't train," Quynh says.

"I took the money I had saved, and I bought my gym. I had dabbled with vlogs when I was on the road, but I ended up getting really into YouTube while I was recovering. And, amazingly, here I am, almost ten years later, with a profitable gym, a production company, and a family and a fan base of people who love and support my work."

"It could have gotten bad," Nile says with a low whistle. "I'm glad you were able to bounce back. You could still kick everyone's ass, I'm sure."

"Oh, definitely. But I don't have to. I just have to keep moving, keep working, and keep doing my best to change the world for the better."

Quynh pokes her head into frame just long enough to kiss Andy, and the chat explodes. 

_End Screen._

...

Tuesday, August 3rd

...

Booker (4:45) I think I might take him up on his offer. Do you think it's the right time?

Nile (4:47) I think it's up to you, Book. You've made it to five weeks sober. Five! That's huge!

Booker (4:48) You don't have to make a big deal about it

Nile (5:00) Yeah I do, because I care about you and you matter to me and I'm really proud of you

Nile (5:01) It's okay to be proud of yourself, Booker

Booker (5:02) Thank you

Booker (5:03) To quote you, I'm doing the damn thing

Nile (5:05) !!!!!

Nile (5:06) Yeah you are!

...

_"Booker le Livre - Special Edition: 8/5/2021" (James Copley)_

James Copley, a handsome black man in a cozy-looking sweater, sits in front of a green screen.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to a special edition of Internet Updates," Copley says with a polite British accent. The Internet Updates logo appears beside him with a special edition stamp on top. "Today I have the honor of interviewing Booker le Livre for the first time since that eventful Instagram Live and Stephen Merrick's hateful expose. Mr. Le Livre, thank you for joining me."

The screen shifts so James' feed is on the left and Booker's on the right. Booker is sitting in a light, breezy office, wearing yet another blue denim shirt. He looks well-rested, clean-shaven and hair neat.

"Thank you for having me, James. Please, call me Booker."

"Booker, then. Thank you for accepting my invitation to Internet Updates. What made you say yes?"

"I felt it was time to properly tell my side of the story."

James nods and looks at his notes.

"Then let's begin. Where are you right now?"

"I'm staying in Paris with a friend of mine from school. She's a counselor, and she was able to refer me to treatment here in France." Booker smiles. "I've been sober for five weeks and three days."

"That's incredible, Booker. I'm proud, and I'm sure your team is proud as well." James smiles warmly. "Now, the big question here is simple. What happened on that night in June?"

Booker takes a moment, and James gives him the time he needs.

"My mother died when I was fifteen. It was very traumatizing, and it was the beginnings of my substance dependency with alcohol."

"I'm sorry for your loss," James says quietly.

"Thank you. I haven't spent an anniversary of her death alone since I was twenty-two. My friends made sure that I wouldn't spend that night without someone keeping an eye on me. This year, I took a job that cut too close to the anniversary. My flight was canceled, so I was stuck in a hotel alone."

"Alone, away from your support system, on a day full of dark memories." James shakes his head. "I see why it would drive you to drink."

"I woke from a nightmare, still drunk, and I felt alone. I accidentally hit the Instagram app, and because I have very little self-preservation on a good day, I decided to go live."

"My audience has questions, and so do I, but I'll start with this one - Why were you so emotional over Joe and Nicky's video?"

"Honestly? I'm not sure." Booker shrugs, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Part of it was feeling lonely and missing my friends - my family. Part of it was the knowledge that Nicky could get that drunk socially and never struggle with drinking the way I do. I can't trust myself with alcohol. There's no such thing as 'cute drunk' with me."

"The audience latched onto the idea that you were jealous of Nicky because you're in love with Joe. Is this the case?"

"God, no. I hit on him twelve years ago because he's an amazing man. He's become my brother in the time since then. I would never do anything to hurt them, and I couldn't be happier that they found each other."

James' smile is soft, almost fond.

"Is there anything else you'd like to tell my audience?"

"Never be afraid to get help. It may seem like it's too late, but it isn't. I promise, there are people who love you and want you to be safe and healthy and happy." Booker leans forward. "If you need someone to talk to, message me. I'll be that person for you, if you can't find them. I love you, and I want you to be safe and healthy and happy."

"Join me tomorrow for my normal internet update. Thank you, Booker, for this opportunity. Have a lovely day, everyone."

_End screen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another interlude written in a boring meeting about nothing. It may be a minute before I get the next big chapter up, but I'm looking into some snippets and outtakes to fill the gap. Love y'al!


	10. The Downtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nile lives life without Booker and wishes she didn't have to.

Saturday, August 21st

…

It has been a very long day. Nile ran roughly a half-million errands, and she's running late for the stream thanks to a line at the goddamn juice place.

Nile hustles up the stairs and abandons the groceries on the counter.

"Nile, are you good?" Jay yells from her bedroom.

"Lost track of time, going to be fine, fuck the Karen in line in front of me at the juice place," Nile yells back. "Please put the cold shit in the fridge! Thank you!"

She tweets out a "running late, should be streaming like normal but slightly hectic" message and pulls the curtains around her bed shut.

By some miracle of modern science, Nile is in her chair, headphones on, at eight o'clock pm, juice firmly in hand.

"Welcome, early birds! Mods, thank you for your patience." Nile sips her juice. "I fought hard for this juice, so I'm going to enjoy it."

CosmicPumpkin asks what happened with the juice.

"The woman in line ahead of me was infuriated that the juice place didn't have some boujee additive that she gets at her normal juice place. The poor kid behind the counter tried to explain that the additive was brand specific to the major chain, and they were a local shop, but she wasn't having it. It was a whole huge thing, all over some overpriced powder or something."

She shoots the shit with the early people as she pulls up her latest project - a detailed portrait of a loved one's dog for a commission.

"I just realized that I forgot to eat dinner," she says as she works. "I have some snacks around here, I think. Jerky, or crackers maybe. Ooh, wait."

She has her phone opened to her iMessage thread with Booker before she remembers. Nile sinks back into her chair with a self-effacing chuckle.

"Fun fact, chat. I completely forgot Booker was in France for just long enough to consider bothering him for falafel." She laughs, but it feels hollow. "I don't think he'd make it by the end of the stream, with the whole trans-Atlantic flight and all."

Someone says habits are hard to break. Someone else suggests bothering him anyway just to be silly. Nile turns her attention back to her project and tries to focus on anything except how much she misses Booker.

Jay arrives in her doorway forty-five minutes later with a bag in her hand.

"Did you order PostMates? Because a PostMates order just arrived for you, from that halal restaurant around the block."

"It must have been Booker." Nile takes the bag. "Thank you for bringing it to me."

"No problem." Jay waves at the camera. "Hi, chat. Bye, chat."

Nile sits back down and unpacks her prize. All of her favorite dishes, including extra sauce.

"Thank you, baby," Nile says directly to camera. "You're too nice to me, even if you won't tell me your twitch handle so I have to guess when you're lurking. Isn't it like 3am in Paris right now? Please go to bed, Book."

The chat has a kitten fit over falafel, and Nile understands.

Nile sees one of Nadia's comments and reads it aloud.

"Nadia says 'I just want someone to love me enough to send me falafel from a whole other country.' Trust me, I'd rather have him home," Nile says softly. It's more real than she usually gets, but she's having 'missing him' hours tonight. 

Nile (9:03) Thank you for the falafel.

Booker (9:04) You're welcome

Nile (9:05) Are you going to tell me your screen name now?

Booker (9:06) Nope. Good night, Nile

Nile (9:07) Good night, Book

Someone pays for a text-to-speech message.

_"Why are you smiling like that? Are you texting Booker? Did you tell him you love and miss him?"_

"Thank you for the ten dollars, dear," Nile says, not bothering to answer the questions or wipe the goofy smile off of her face.

…

Julio (@treeofsouls) 3hr

Where is my estranged beloved to send me falafel from thousands of miles away?

Nadia (@nilefreemanstan) 3hr

Right?! My love language is absurdly simple but perfect acts of service. Also fried chickpeas.

Darren (@theoldsquadgoals) 2hr

Has anyone seen Nile's latest cover project? I feel like she might be projecting

[Image Description: A half-finished Illustrator piece depicting the commissioned cover art for a romance novel. The man on the cover looks like Booker le Livre.]

Spoon (@cosmicpumpkin) 2hr

(Replying to @theoldsquadgoals) This is the cutest thing I have ever seen in my entire life.

…

Friday, September 3rd

… 

"Good afternoon, Nile," Collette calls from her reception desk. "Here to work out or heading upstairs?"

"Upstairs, but I'm going to swing through Quynh's class really quick to say hi."

Quynh's youth class is running drills as Nile steps into the main training room.

"Dang, you guys look good." Nile pauses to watch one particularly tenacious youth kicking the pads like they took her lunch money. "Keep working like that, and they'll put you on the roster soon."

"That's. The. Goal," she says between blows.

"I can't wait to see you fight, then."

"Hey, honey." Quynh holds her arms open, and Nile sinks into the hug.

"Hey." Nile takes a deep breath. "Needed that. Class over at five thirty?"

"Yes, but I've got private training coming in."

"Right, Peter has a competition next weekend." Nile squeezes her and steps back. "Andy in the office?"

"She is. Go on upstairs. I think she's calling the August non-payments, and she always ends up grouchy."

"We've got to get y'all a bookkeeper," Nile says, shaking her head. "Or let Collette do it."

"Andy likes making personal contact," Quynh says with a shrug. "Far be it from me to stop her."

"I'm going to head up and cuddle Gus."

"Good, he needs love, and he won't let us touch him."

Nile unlocks the apartment door, and a blob of ratty orange fur shambles across the floor to her. Nile crouches and opens her arms, and Gus launches himself at her.

"Hi, sweet boy." She scratches his neck. "I know, baby. He's been gone so long."

Gus shoves his face against her throat and digs his claws into her sweatshirt. Nile carefully drops her bags and sits in Booker's favorite armchair to give Gus the attention he deserves.

She manages to take a blurry picture of the two of them and sends it to Booker.

Nile (4:47) [mms image attached]

Nile (4:47) Gus misses you, and so do I.

Nile didn't realize how tired she was. Gus' rattling purr eases her to sleep.

She wakes to the artificial sound of a phone camera shutter.

"I'm sending this to Booker," Quynh whispers. "You two are adorable. Feel free to go back to sleep."

"No, no. It's fine. I'm fine." Nile rubs her eyes. "Wait, why is your sound up that loud?"

"It's Andy's phone. I like knowing when she's taking pictures," Quynh says simply.

"Oh, right. The thing." Nile tries to sit up, but Gus stops her. "Okay, okay. I'll stay here. Gosh, you're needy."

Andy comes up from work grouchy, so they end up starting Parks and Rec for the third time in two months. Quynh gives in and orders pizza - veggie for her, all meats for Andy, and supreme for Nile.

"Pizza for dinner, midnight snack, and breakfast," Quynh announces as she sets them on the coffee table. "It's been a long day. We deserve this."

"Agreed." Andy digs in, hunger winning over manners.

Nile finally shifts Gus to her lap (where he can nab little pieces of ham) so she can eat.

Booker FaceTimes, and Nile answers immediately.

"Booker, hi!"

"Bon jour, Nile," Booker says, his accent thicker then ever after months back home.

Gus perks up immediately and searches out the voice, rubbing his face on the phone.

"Oh, my poor boy. I've been away for so long. You've gotten lonely." Booker's tone is soft, gentle.

Gus yowls and nearly knocks the phone out of Nile's hand.

"Easy, Augustus. You'll hang up on him, Jesus." Nile adjusts her hold so Gus can see Booker more clearly. "There, are you happy?"

"I'm glad he has you," Booker says quietly.

"Me too," Nile says, just as quiet.

"Are you staying the night with Andy and Quynh?" Booker asks after a pause.

"I am. We're filming collabs tomorrow, and I like to escape the apartment occasionally."

"Good. You're not working tonight though, right?" Booker looks concerned.

"Nope. Pizza, Parks and Rec, and kitty cuddles."

"I'm very jealous."

"Of me or of the cat?" Nile asks, mostly teasing. (Or so she tells herself.)

"Both. I am very much jealous of both."

…

_"MMA Champion Andromache Rates Movie Fight Scenes with Nile Freeman" (Andromache)_

The video starts with Andy and Nile sitting on Andy's couch, laptop on Andy's lap and headphones on.

"Hello, everyone. Welcome to a special collab video this week. Nile is spending the night, so we decided we were going to do something fun."

"I know basically nothing about martial arts," Nile says. "I pulled some clips from movie fight scenes, and Andy is going to comment on how accurate and _plausible_ these scenes are."

"I don't know what all she picked, so this is going to be very interesting." Andy smiles. "I heart Quynh and Nile giggling evilly earlier. I'm concerned."

"You should be."

(Timestamp 13:12)

"Okay, I've got one more clip." Nile pulls up the last one, with a title card reading _The Matrix._

"Nope. No, absolutely not." Andy takes off her headphones. "Nope. Those movies are visually stunning, but the fight scenes are nonsense. I'm not even going to bother."

"Oh, come on, Andy!"

"That's all we have for today. Thank you for watching, do all the YouTube things. Check out Nile's links in the description and go do all the YouTube things for her as well. I will see you next time. Stay safe!"

…

Wednesday, September 13th

...

It is very early. Nile is awake against her will.

"I brought you coffee," Dizzy says, wafting the hazelnut goodness in her direction.

Nike is awake against her will, but at least she has coffee.

"I love you very much, but I hate Wednesday mornings sometimes." Nile rolls out of bed, pulls on a hoodie, and plops down in her chair. "Do you have the last edits made on the text?"

"It's already up." Dizzy sits in her chair by Nile's side as Nile turns on all her tech. "I didn't make too many changes. Nothing plot-wise, just some little wording things."

"Good, because the last time you wanted to change plot, I was up all night for two days to stay on schedule." Nile sips her coffee and pulls up the shared drive. "Let's get to work."

Jay, saint among women, brings them bagels around noon.

"How are we doing?" Jay asks, eyebrows raised.

"We finished the last edits for week after next, I'm working on the line art for the next issue after that, and we're blocking the next." Nile gestures to the Kanban board. "Dizzy is looking through the outline to look at plot and potential shifts."

"You've made good progress today." Jay kisses Dizzy quickly, and Nile tilts her cheek up until Jay gives her a quick kiss too. "Are you being jealous of my girlfriend?"

"I deserve affection too," Nile says with a fake pout.

"I know, honey." Jay kisses the top of her head. "I'm going to stop distracting you now. Don't work too hard, and please remember to eat dinner before the stream."

"You're the best," Dizzy says, leaning up for one more kiss. "Now go, before we get even more distracted."

Booker (12:43) I know it is Clay and Violets day. Please tell me you're eating

Nile (12:44) Jay brought us bagels

Booker (12:44) And drinking water?

Nile (12:45) Yes, I'm drinking water. Thank you for checking in. Are you drinking water?

Booker (12:46) nothing but tea and water, don't worry

Nile (12:47) As long as it's mostly water and not tea

"What are you so smiley about?" Dizzy asks in a way that implies she knows the answer.

"It's just Booker," Nile says, trying not to grin. "He was checking in because he knows Wednesdays can be tough."

"That is adorable." Dizzy pokes her in the shoulder. "You two talk constantly. Have you come any closer to admitting you're in love with him?"

"I don't want to fuck with his recovery by adding my feelings to his emotional load," Nile says simply. "I show him my love every day, and for now, that's enough."

"That is the cutest thing I have ever heard," Dizzy says, pretending to tear up. "Like if a penguin and a puppy were friends."

"Sure, Diz. Whatever you say." Nile gestures to the computer screen. "Eat your damn bagel and work on the proofs."

…

Monday, September 27th

...

_(Group chat: The Bookkeepers)_

Quynh (10:45) It's almost the end of the quarter, how are we looking?

Nile (10:47) Sexy, but not like we're trying to, but like, sure we're trying, but it's almost effortless?

Quynh (10:50) I meant financially, not for a B99 reference, thank you, Nile

Nile (10:52) I'm golden. Numbers are up across all of my platforms (thank you BLP) and my financials have never been healthier

Andy (10:53) You're setting aside taxes?

Nile (10:54) Yes, mom. This isn't my first rodeo

Andy (10:55) Just making sure

Joe (11:15) Nile is grown, Andy.

Nicky (11:20) I got a good deal on your ticket for that business trip we were talking about, Quynh

Quynh (11:25) Great, thank you. You're always better at that than I am

Nile (11:32) Where are you going?

Quynh (11:33) Europe, I've got some contacts to meet up with

Nile (11:45) Fun!

Joe (12:27) Nicolo and I are doing well, financially, Quynh. I sent you our most recent numbers

Quynh (12:30) Thank you, Yusuf. Also, everyone's direct deposit for the merch store is running late because of a banking thing, but it's coming

Quynh (12:32) Also Booker has sold a surprising amount of merch this month. His numbers are going back up

Andy (12:34) Good.

…

Saturday, October 2nd

... 

Nile FaceTimes Booker as soon as she gets home from movie night.

When Booker answers, he's either jogging or juggling, because his feed is wobbly as hell.

"You need to set me down, or I'm going to get seasick," Nile warns, looking away from her phone. 

"Hello to you too, Nile," Booker drawls. "Give me a moment and I'll put you in the tripod."

Nile waits to look back at her phone until Booker gives her the go-ahead.

"I'm stable again, lit."

Booker laughs. "I realize I am an older millennial and you are younger, but there's something about the word lit that reminds me of the distance in age."

"You absolutely cannot say it. It doesn't work with your vibe." Nile settles back in bed. "I'm glad you're awake."

"Nile, it is two am there, which means it is seven am here. I wake early."

"Still, I'm glad you were able to pick up. I wanted to update you on the latest movie night. Big things are happening!"

"Oh?" Booker is cleaning or cooking or something as he talks.

"Nicky trusted me in his kitchen long enough to make a salad!"

"That's huge, Nile," Booker says, looking at the camera. "I'm proud."

Nile feels her cheeks go warm and prays her skin tone and the shitty connection covers her blush.

"I mean, Joe said 'Nile, if you keep waving that knife around, I'm going to take it away,' but it was fine." Nile sips her water. "I was just talking with my hands! Nicky does it all the time."

"He's Italian," Booker points out. "He can't help it. Besides, he has far more practice with knives than you do."

"Anyway, I was able to make a salad to Nicky's exacting specifications, and no one lost a finger, so I'd call it an unmitigated success." 

"I'd have to agree." Booker grins. "Nicky still won't let me into his kitchen."

"Aren't you the one who broke his expensive balsamic vinaigrette because you tripped on air? Sober?"

"I never said he was wrong to ban me," Booker says. "I'm just saying he banned me."

"Some days you're lucky you're cute," Nile says, rolling her eyes.

"You think I'm cute?" Booker asks, a twinkle in his eye.

"Adorable," Nile says sarcastically.

(At least, she hopes it comes out sarcastic.)

"Shouldn't you be going to bed soon? Isn't tomorrow your streaming Saturday?"

"I'm technically in bed," Nile points out, gesturing the camera at her blankets. "I'm just also talking to you."

"Okay fine, shouldn't you go to sleep soon, smart ass?"

"Maybe. Not yet, though." Nile yawns. "I miss talking to you."

"I miss you too," Booker says quietly. "You need rest."

"Boo." Nile pouts.

"Nile, if you rest, I'll tell you my screenname tonight."

Nile perks up at that.

"Done! Stay on the line, though?"

"Whatever you want, Nile."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a very hectic week or so since my last update.  
> 1\. I got a girlfriend (DragonflyDreams and I are official and shit, which is cool)  
> 2\. I had anxiety spirals and a depressive episode (unrelated to #1)  
> 3\. Work has been insane (turn something in, you heathens!)  
> Thank y'all for any love you've sent in the interim!


	11. The Penitent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Booker comes home.

Wednesday, October 6th

...

Booker wakes early despite his late night watching Nile's stream. He goes for a run around Manon's neighborhood, getting in his usual six or so kilometers before heading home again.

By the time he's out of the shower, Manon is up and moving around the kitchen.

"Did you enjoy your run?" Manon asks in Provençal. Booker is going to miss speaking his true home language.

"I did. Mme. Ansel and her dog were out, so I stopped to talk for a bit, say goodbye."

"When is Quynh supposed to arrive?" Manon asks.

"She's supposed to get here in time for dinner tonight, and we'll take the red eye back to New York."

Manon pauses in her cooking to squeeze his shoulder.

"Are you ready to go home, my friend?"

"I am. I'm ready to be back with my family," Booker says with a little smile.

"And with Nile, no?" Manon asks, big brown eyes falsely innocent.

"Yes, with Nile. No, not like that. Not... not yet, at least. I need time," Booker admits.

"I know. I also know that she will give it to you." Manon releases him and goes back to her vegetables. "She seems like a good fit for you, based on how much you talk even now."

"We're a good pair, no matter what that ends up meaning." Booker snags a piece of mushroom, and Manon threatens to chop his fingers. "Do not worry, you will always maintain your place in my heart."

"I know. They may be your family, but I was here first," Manon says, waving her knife in his direction. "And I will always be here for you, Sébastien."

Booker doesn't know what he did to deserve Manon Raza in his life. Maybe he was a Saint in a past life. Maybe he's Manon's project on her path to enlightenment. Either way, he's lucky.

"I love you," Booker says simply.

"I know," Manon says, blunt and to the point. "It would do you well to remember that, so I do not only hear from you in crisis."

"Understood." Booker hugs her before she can complain. "Thank you."

The day flies by as Booker cleans and packs and finishes up a million last-minute things before he goes back across the Atlantic. He's been living with Manon for three months, which may be a new record for him staying in one place.

"Have you looked into that thing we talked about?" Manon asks as she helps him strip his bed.

"I have. I've already made contact with a broker," Booker says, ducking his head.

"That is fantastic, Sébastien. I'm very proud." Manon flings a pillowcase at his head with a fond smile. "Putting down roots will be good for you."

"It's time I get a place of my own. I can't just live in Quynh and Andy's guest room forever."

"And you feel comfortable living alone?" Manon asks for the thousandth time.

"It will be a dry apartment," Booker promises, also for the thousandth time. "My back-up plans have back-up plans, Manon."

"You've made contact with a counselor in New York, yes?"

"Yes. You're the one who referred me, remember?"

"I'm just making sure." Manon bundles up the bedding and passes it to him. "Be useful, and go start the wash, please."

By the time Quynh arrives, Booker is nearly vibrating out of his skin in excitement. She knocks, and Booker rushes to open the door and sweep her into his arms.

"Booker," Quynh says, giggling. "It's so nice to see you. Also, ow."

"Sorry," Booker says, making a concerted effort to use English. "Sorry. I just missed you."

He sets Quynh on her feet and releases her. Well, he tries to. Quynh holds him tight.

"You owe me three months of hugs," Quynh says. "Call this a head start, before I have to share you with the rest of the family."

When Quynh finally releases him, Booker steps back so Manon can get a quick hug.

"It is good to see you again, Quynh."

"Thank you for taking care of our Booker," Quynh says warmly. "We really appreciate it."

"Any time," Manon says. "I'm happy to share custody."

"I'm an adult," Booker points out. Both women wave him away.

"Are you all packed?" Quynh asks, looking at the small pile of luggage by the stairs.

"I am. Packed, cleaned, and I helped Manon make dinner."

"Good. Let's eat, and then let's get you home."

...

Thursday, October 7th

...

Nile (4:45) I'm gonna be working on your new merch on stream. I know Quynh's the one who asked for it, to make your stuff line up better with the others, but any requests?

Booker (4:46) You know my style. Brand-wise, lining things up with the quote shirt you did back a few months ago would be good

Booker (4:47) I really like the botanical thing you started

Nile (4:50) You've got it. Are you staying up to watch the stream or going to bed at a reasonable hour?

Booker (4:55) I'll probably watch, but we'll see

...

Booker considers it a success that he's going to actually stick to his plan and surprise Nile on stream. He's been back in the country for over twelve hours, and he wants nothing more than to go see her, but he made himself wait.

"Booker!" Mrs. Canetti lets him in as she walks into the building. "It's so nice to see you. It's been so long!"

"It's nice to see you too, Mrs. Canetti." Booker smiles, and it isn't tight around the edges anymore. "It's good to be back."

"You look good," Mrs. Canetti says, patting his arm. "You seem to have moved past all that scandal nonsense. Nile will be very happy to see you."

God, Booker hopes so.

He pulls the stream up on his phone on his way up to the apartment. Nile is working on his updated merch ideas.

Booker (8:13) In the hall, don't want to knock

Dizzy opens the door with a grin and ushers Booker inside.

"Come in, come in," she whispers. "Nile has no idea you're coming, so shh."

Booker is as quiet as one can be when removing boots and sliding on obnoxious angry emoji slippers, all without dropping the falafel. Dizzy hugs him quickly.

"It's good to see you. Now, let's surprise our girl."

Dizzy knocks on Nile's door.

"Someone PostMated falafel for you again," Dizzy calls. "Can I bring it in?"

"Yes please," Nile says, and Dizzy opens the door to let Booker in.

"I thought I would bring it myself this time," Booker says, grinning so hard his cheeks ache.

Nile's jaw drops as she looks away from the screen to make eye contact with Booker.

"I… are you…?" 

"Yeah."

Booker only barely gets the falafel onto the end of the desk before Nile throws herself into his arms.

"Hey," Booker mumbles into the pile of braids on her head.

"Hey," Nile tells his chest, face tucked against his shirt.

Booker secures his grip on her to keep from tipping over at the sheer force of her affection. He can feel the tension seep out of him, the familiar warmth replacing an exhaustion he's carried for months.

"I missed you," Nile says.

"I missed you, too." Booker kisses her forehead - or tries, at least. He gets a face full of braids for his trouble. "So, my surprise worked?"

"Yes, your surprise worked, asshole. I had no idea you were in the goddamn country, let alone walking into my apartment."

Nile leans back to wipe her eyes. Booker has never wanted to kiss her more in his life. He hugs her tightly instead.

Booker doesn't remember they're technically still on stream until someone pays for a text-to-speech chat.

_"Welcome home, brother. We have missed you,"_ the computer reads out. _"Save some affection for the rest of us."_

Nile laughs and sticks her tongue out at the camera.

"Thanks for the ten dollars, Joe. You could have just called or put it into the chat."

_"This was more fun,"_ the robotic voice reads aloud.

The chat has absolutely blown up since Booker arrived. He doesn't read the messages, doesn't want to actually face the public yet.

"Looks like I'm ending the stream early tonight, guys." Nile grins. "I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. Booker is back!"

She ends the stream before anyone can protest too much.

"You didn't have to do that, Nile."

"Yeah, I did. I'm three months behind on Booker hugs." Nile wraps her arms around his neck. "How was Paris?"

"Good. I needed the time with Manon, the time away." Booker wraps his arms around her waist. "I'm glad to be home, though."

"It's good to have you home," Nile says. "I didn't realize how entwined our lives were until you weren't here."

Booker doesn't dare let himself hope. Not out loud. Not even to himself.

"I'm here now," Booker says, instead of doing something stupid like kissing her.

"I know. I'm glad."

...

_Julio (@treeofsouls) 20m_

HE SURPRISED HER AND BROUGHT FALAFEL HIMSELF I AM DYING

_Nadia (@nilefreemanstan) 19m_

The chat is going insane, the discord is chaos, I love this but also I'm gonna need him to warn the mod squad next time

_Darren (@theoldsquadgoals) 18m_

Did you guys see her FACE when she realized? She was so thrilled!

_Spoon (@cosmicpumpkin) 17m_

(Replying to @theoldsquadgoals) This is the cutest thing I have ever seen in my entire life.

_Kristen (@itsaboutthefalafel) 16m_

My @ is even more on brand now. I love that for me

_Joe al-Kaysani (@yusufalkaysani) 15m_

You're welcome @nilefreeman @bookerlelivre

_[Video description: A screen recording of Nile's stream as Booker walks in and Nile rushes to hug him]_

_Spoon (@cosmicpumpkin) 14m_

(Replying to @yusufalkaysani) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

_Julio (@treeofsouls) 13m_

(Replying to @yusufalkaysani) You are doing God's work, sir

_Kristen (@itsaboutthefalafel) 12m_

Is it possible to get a video tattooed on your body? Asking for a friend...

…

Saturday, October 9th

…

"Good morning, Booker." Stacey, Booker's very perky broker, is far too awake for it to be this early on a Saturday. "I've got a great opportunity, but you have to meet me in Brooklyn in less than an hour."

A whirlwind three hours later, the property manager hands Booker the keys to his newly rented closet of an apartment. Booker has a lease on an apartment for the first time in over ten years.

"How does it feel?" Stacey asks, grinning.

"It feels good. Weird, but good." Booker fidgets with the keys. "I have an apartment."

"You do." Stacey squeezes his arm. "Congratulations, Booker."

Booker is doing this for himself and his recovery, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of Nile when he signed the lease.

_"I wanted to put down roots, and she didn't. I would have been happy for her to keep traveling, as long as she came home to me,_ " Nile said of Gita _months_ ago.

Booker is putting down roots.

(He's coming home to her.)

"I'm going to head out," Stacey says. "The place is yours. Enjoy."

The moment the door closes behind Stacey, Booker hits Nile's autodial.

"Hey, Book, what's up?" Nile answers almost immediately.

"I signed a lease. Are you free to come see my apartment?" Booker pauses, then thinks 'fuck it.' "I'm only a ten-minute walk from you."

"That's fucking awesome! Book, I'm so proud of you!" There's a muffled thud as Nile slides out of bed and drops something. "Send me the address."

"Done and done." Booker copies it from his notes and pastes it into a text. "I'm excited for you to see it."

"I'll be there in twenty."

When Booker lets Nile in a half hour later, she has a houseplant in her arms.

"I talked Dizzy into letting go of one of her collection. His name is Geraldo, he is a spider plant, and he's all yours." Nile holds out the pot. "Happy housewarming!"

Booker takes the plant (Geraldo?) and steps aside to let Nile in.

"It's not much, and it's far too expensive, but, it's home, I guess."

The living space is decently sized, considering the kitchen is a tiny apartment-style one-wall configuration in the corner. Booker is already envisioning furniture, where he'll put the memorabilia from his travels.

"The view is surprisingly good," Nile says, looking out the front windows. "It's nice. We'll be able to fit the whole family here for movie night, if you plan your furniture properly."

Booker is going to be able to host movie night in his own apartment.

Why does that feel so huge?

"The bathroom is on the left, and the bedroom is at the end of the world's shortest hallway," Booker says, gesturing. "There is technically a coat closet, but it will hold approximately one coat."

"This is amazing, Booker." Nile pauses, smirks. "Where are you going to put the cat tree?"

"By the window," Booker says immediately. "So Gus can see outside."

He isn't going pretend that Gus isn't his cat, not anymore. Now he has a proper home to offer the crotchety beast.

"He's going to love it," Nile says with a grin. "I've got spare soundproofing panels under my bed, want me to bring them for however you set up your new studio space?"

"That would be good. Thank you." Booker looks around. "I might set up the computer in the bedroom."

"Good plan. You need all the space you can get out here for entertaining." Nile gasps, and Booker wants to kiss her. "We can throw you a housewarming party! I'll plan the whole thing. You'll just have to be here."

"Okay."

"I mean it, you won't have to lift a- wait, did you say yes?"

"Yes, you can throw a housewarming party. One caveat- I'll need help thrifting furniture."

"This is going to be amazing." Nile bounces a little, and Booker can't help his grin.

...

Saturday, October 16th

...

"Okay. That should be the last of it." Nile puts the grocery bags down on the table. "I still can't believe so much of this stuff is for Gus."

"Gus is an emperor," Booker says. "He deserves the best."

Emperor Gus rattle-purrs from his perch in his ornate cat tree, obviously not arguing with Booker's statement.

Booker has spent most of the week thrifting and bargaining and hauling.

Quynh helped him pick out area rugs and curtains. Nicky talked NMa store owner into a good deal on the living room set. Joe found a perfect coffee table that transitions into a dining table for when the whole family is over, and Andy gave him a little bistro set for everyday dining in the corner.

He has two of Joe's works over the couch, and a Nile Freeman original over the loveseat. Nile helped him find a decently priced bed and dresser, and she's helped him with the thousands of little things one needs when moving.

Booker's home is made up of his entire family, and he couldn't be happier.

"You're spoiling him," Nile says, putting the high-end wet food in the fridge. “He’s going to get even fatter, Book.”

"He's an old man. He's lived a long life. He deserves the best in his golden years."

"You're a sap, and he has you wrapped around his paw," Nile says, hands on her hips.

"That too." Booker snags one of Gus' favorite toys from the couch and holds it up to him. Gus takes it gently and holds it in his paws. "I love him."

"I know. Your insta this week is 90% Gus." Nile waves a baguette in his direction. "Now, I need to get to work on your housewarming party. Go take a nap or something. The others will be here at six."

Booker doesn't mean to fall asleep, but his new bed is very comfortable and the past week (month, year, lifetime) has been very tiring. He's asleep roughly three seconds after his head hits the pillow.

He wakes some unknown amount of time later to a ruckus in the living area followed by frantic shushing.

"Booker is sleeping," Nile whisper-yells. "Be quiet."

"The apartment is small, and the walls are thin," Booker calls out. "I am not sleeping any longer."

"My brother!" Joe bursts into Booker's bedroom, wielding a bottle of Orangina. "Come, join your party. The family is all here.” 

Booker sits up and takes the soda.

"Thank you."

"Of course." Joe looks him over. "Absolutely not. You aren't wearing this for your housewarming party."

"It's just family," Booker points out, but it's too late. Joe is already going through his miniscule closet.

"Just because we are family doesn't mean you can't look put together." Joe throws a clean pair of jeans at him. "Especially not when pictures are probably going to be posted."

"Can we avoid working on my image for one night?" Booker sheds his sweatpants to pull on the jeans.

"This is not about image," Joe says firmly. "This is about celebrating progress."

Booker doesn't argue after that, trading his t-shirt for the snug maroon quarter-zip Joe throws at him.

"Much better. You look less like a dad going to the hardware store and more like the handsome bastard I know you are. Brush your hair and come join your party."

When Booker emerges from his room, he finds the usual warm chaos of his family filling the small space. Nicky and Nile are bickering in the kitchen. Joe is egging them on. Andy and Quynh have retreated to the oversized armchair.

(If anyone asked, he just really liked the chair. He definitely didn't get it specifically with them in mind.)

"Please stop waving knives around, you two. There isn't enough clearance for both of you to talk so broadly," Booker says in the direction of Nile and Nicky. He stoops to kiss Andy and Quynh on the cheek. "It's good to have you here."

"It's good to be here." Andy squeezes the back of his neck. "Go save your walls from the cooking chaos."

Booker gently steps between Nicky and Nile, deftly disarming them mid-sentence.

"Both of you, cut it out. What could possibly be this dramatic? Didn't both of you do most of the cooking at home already?"

They both try to explain the argument, but Booker doesn't have the emotional energy for this.

"Nope, no arguing in my kitchen. Go argue in the hall if you must. Don't decapitate any passers-by. I actually like my neighbor."

"Esme is a nice girl," Andy agrees. "I met her family the last time I came over."

"I like the Acabedos," Nile agrees. "Don't worry, Book, we'll calm down."

"Thank you." Booker hands Joe the knives and hugs Nicky. "It's good to see you."

Nicky hugs him tightly, broad hands spanning his back.

"Now, enough being adorable," Nile declares. "Food is ready, so it's time to eat before things reach thermodynamic equilibrium."

"You're in a room full of youtubers, and you went to art school," Joe points out. "Why are you using big science words?"

"Because I can. Dig in! Booker first, of course, as the man of the hour."

The next twenty minutes are barely contained chaos as they fill plates and settle in around the convertible coffee/dining table.

"I want to raise a toast," Nicky says once they're all in their new usual places. "To our host and dearest friend, Booker, and to all his future success."  
"To Booker." The others all raise a glass, and Booker absolutely does not cry.

It's a near thing.

…

Thursday, October 27th

…

Nile (3:47) Early dinner at the diner by your place after your session. Tell Celia I said bon jour

Booker (3:56) Will do. I'm going into her office. I'll text you when I'm out

Booker (5:03) I'm out of the office. I'll meet you, grab a table if you're already there

Nile (5:15) Way ahead of you

Booker (5:20) Almost there. See you soon

Nile (6:45) Thank you for walking me home, logging into the stream soon. We'll talk during or after, since you couldn't stay

Booker (7:01) Just got home. Tell the stream I said hi

Nile (7:03) Will do. Thank you for letting me know

...

Friday, November 12th

...

Booker has never been more nervous about a dinner in his life.

_"It's just another dinner with Nile,"_ Celia told him. _"You're just going to talk."_

It isn't that simple. It's never been that simple with Nile.

He was going to cook, but his nerves are too high, so he orders falafel. Nile is curled up on the loveseat with a book when dinner arrives, and Booker is trying very hard not to pace.

"Dinner is here," Booker announces, getting their usual order out and pulling down plates.

"I can see that." Nile joins him at the little table in the kitchen area. "Smells good. The usual?"

"It is. Didn't feel like trying anything new tonight." Booker takes a bite and nearly chokes, his mouth is so dry.

He guzzles down water and part of him wishes it was alcohol.

"Booker, baby, you're so high-strung tonight." Nile kicks his foot under the table. "Talk to me. What's going on in that brilliant mind of yours?"

"I've been talking with Celia, and an important part of my recovery is being honest with the people around me. I need to tell the people I love what my emotions are doing - accountability, community, all that."

Booker takes a deep breath. Nile doesn't say anything, but her eyes are encouraging.

"I love you, and I'm in love with you, but… I need to focus on healing for right now." Booker stands, unable to keep still. "I understand if you don't feel the same. I completely get it. And if you do, I'd never expect you to wait around for me, to keep from potential good relationships while I figure out how to be myself, but-"

Nile stops him with a hand on his arm, and Booker holds his breath.

“It’s okay Book, there’s no need to rush things. We have time. And when you’re ready, you can ask me again, and I’ll say yes.”

Booker's heart is in his throat.

"Really?"

Nile holds out her pinky. Booker hooks his pinky with hers.

They touch thumbs, and somehow, he falls even more in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot has happened since I last updated. An abbreviated list: the election, the end of the quarter and grades being due, deteriorating mental health, moving out from a toxic living situation, and getting settled with a friend for now.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has shown support during this unplanned hiatus. Special thanks to my amazing girlfriend and writing partner, DragonflyDreams. I love you, baby.


	12. Interlude 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving

_"The Old Squad: Episode 06 - Nile and Nicky talk Turkey" (Tuesday, November 23rd)_

Music plays, a lo-fi jazz original by Jay Davis.

"Welcome to _The Old Squad_ , the podcast where I bother my friends, we talk about whatever we want, and you get to come along for the ride," Nile begins. "I'm your host, Nile Freeman, and joining me is the incomparable Nicky al-Kaysani."

"You flatter me, Nile," Nicky says with a chuckle.

"It's true, no one compares. Now, Nicky, tell the people who you are, in case episode six of the podcast is their first interaction with you somehow."

"I'm Nicolo al-Kaysani, chef, baker, and YouTube personality, or so I've been told." Nicky chuckles. "I'm the author of three cookbooks so far, and my fourth is coming out in January."

"Tell us about the new book," Nile says.

"My previous works have been primarily for beginner to intermediate chefs and bakers, but the latest project is for those who don't even know where to begin. _Cooking for the Not-So-Average Joe_ is a book inspired by my beloved Yusuf, who had zero cooking skills when we got together."

"He makes so many of his mom's recipes, though," Nile interjects, surprised.

"Yes, now he does. We had to talk her into letting him into her kitchen. Apparently, as a boy, he could burn water if given the opportunity."

"Does Joe know you're roasting him on our podcast?" Nile asks, giggling. "He's gonna listen to this, you know. He's the one who edits them."

"He is more than aware, dear one. The title was his idea."

"Okay, fair. Now, talk me through the thought process of the book, and then after the break, we'll talk about Thanksgiving."

(31:02)

"...thank you so much to our sponsors. Back to the topic at hand. Nicky, you're first generation Italian-American. What does Thanksgiving mean to you?"

"Thanksgiving was always a complicated thing, because my Nonna wanted nothing to do with the American holiday but my parents wanted us to have the true American experience."

"I can understand that. The mixing of cultures, especially around such an essentially Americana tradition like Thanksgiving."

"It was a bit of a fight every year until my Nonna passed, and then it became tradition to recite her usual complaints about the holiday every year." Nicky sounds wistful. "Of course, now that my parents have passed, I am the only one who remembers."

"You can teach us," Nile says immediately. "The family, I mean, not the podcast audience. We can keep the tradition."

"Thank you, Nile. That means a lot."

(51:21)

"That brings us to the end of our show," Nile says briskly. "Thank you, Nicky for joining me today, and thank you for listening. Thank you to Jay Davis for our wonderful intro and outro music, and to Bronze Labrys Productions for having us as part of their family of content. Don't forget to check out the rest of the BLP network at bronzelabrys.com, and pre-order Nicky's book everywhere books are sold."

"Thank you to Nile for having me," Nicky says. "And we wish you and yours a very happy Thanksgiving, or, at the very least, a decent Thursday. Ciao."

…

Thursday, November 25th

… 

"Are you wearing a purple sweater?" Andy turns Booker by the shoulders. "When did you buy a purple sweater?"

"When Nile and I went to the thrift store by the falafel truck's new usual spot," Booker says, rolling his eyes. "She said it was a good color on me."

"It is a good color on you," Quynh says. "That's why we're surprised. It's not yet another denim shirt."

"Nicky, Joe, they're being mean to me," Booker calls out.

"That is a _you_ problem, my friend," Joe says. "Bring your dish and add it to the table." 

Thanksgiving with the family is always chaotic, but this is the first year Booker has been nervous about it. He carries the basket of fresh fougasse to the table and has a minor panic.

"She gave up going to see her mom for this. What if it isn't enough? What if we aren't family enough to make up for it?"

"She's going to have fun. She's part of our family now, and she made the choice herself," Andy says, squeezing Booker's arm. "Breathe."

"What if my bread isn't good?"

"I've had at least one bite of the last seventeen batches," Joe says, sliding in to give him a hug. "It's delicious. You've done your mom's recipe justice. Deep breaths, brother."

"This is going to be fine. It's going to go well. It's just dinner." Booker wishes he could believe himself.

...

The energy in Joe and Nicky's brownstone is chaotic and warm when Nile walks in with her casserole dish of cornbread and sausage dressing. Nicky pulls her into a hug and takes the dish to add to a table groaning with food.

"This is the most varied Thanksgiving meal I think I've ever seen." Nile looks over the dishes and perks up when she sees something familiar. "Do I finally get to try the fougasse?"

Booker has been attempting it for weeks, and he hasn't let her have a single bite because it wasn't perfect.

"Yes, and I hope it's good." Booker brings her a glass of tea, and Nile leans in for a hug.

"You look good, Book. I was right about the sweater." He looks good, and the sweater is so soft she doesn't want to let go.

(Definitely because of the sweater. Not because hugging Booker feels like coming home.)

"You're right about almost everything," Booker points out. His smile is fond, warm, gentle.

Nile's heart flutters.

"It's about time you realized that." She breaks eye contact before she does something stupid, like kiss him. "Okay, what am I looking at?"

"My fougasse, Quynh's vegetarian spring rolls, Andy's salad, and Joe's _chorba_ soup. Nicky will bring the turkey here shortly, along with a plate of crudité that no one will bother eating until tomorrow."

"And what the hell is that mysterious blob in the casserole dish?"

"BAF-erole," Andy says proudly. "It's broke as fuck casserole. Quynh and I made it one year that we didn't have money, and it stuck."

"What the hell is in it?" Nile asks, feeling concerned.

"It has rules," Booker says, rolling his eyes. "Whatever leftovers you have in the fridge, no exceptions, and cream of something soup."

"Sounds hideous, I'm in," Nile says with a grin. "When do we eat?"

"After a round of various blessings, _cara_." Nicky carries a truly massive turkey in from the kitchen. "Everyone sit! Dinner is served."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is complicated, my brain hates me sometimes, but the muse popped back up for a minute! Thank you to my amazing girlfriend and writing partner DragonflyDreams for supporting me through all the everything. I love you, baby.
> 
> There are some fun updates to the links on my pinned post over on Tumblr if you haven't seen it recently, so go check that out at [rileywrites](https://rileywrites.tumblr.com/).

**Author's Note:**

> Find my personal blog at [reactingcaptain](https://reactingcaptain.tumblr.com/)my writing-exclusive blog at [rileywrites](https://rileywrites.tumblr.com/), and my erotica account at [TheEloquentDecadent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEloquentDecadent/works).


End file.
